The Great Council (SYOC)
by TheStormHunter
Summary: Valarr Targaryen, ailing King of the Seven Kingdoms, is near death. His daughter, Viserra, is the presumptive heir. However, her cousin, Prince Viserys, covets the throne for himself, and throws Viserra's younger siblings into the scrum as well. SYOC OPEN to any and all that want to submit. Multiple characters encouraged through PM only.
1. Prologue

Cast List:

**MAIN TARGARYEN LINE**

King Valarr Targaryen, 50, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms

Queen Alysanne Targaryen, 25, deceased, former Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men

Prince Rhaegel Targaryen, 24, exiled, "The Maniac of Myr"

Princess Viserra Targaryen, 22, Princess of Dragonstone and heir apparent to the Iron Throne

Prince Aerys 'the Abhorrent' Targaryen, 16, "Maron's Maid"

Princess Shaena Targaryen, 16, "Queen of Glass"

Princess Naerys Targaryen, 15, "The Spring Princess"

**SECONDARY TARGARYEN LINE**

Prince Raelar Targaryen, 46, deceased, Knight of the Seven, brother to King Valarr Targaryen

Princess Elaera Targaryen, 35, deceased, wife to Raelar Targaryen

Prince Viserys Targaryen, 21, Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, Master of Laws, "Summer's King"

_The Great Council (SYOC)_

_Prologue: Fit for a King_

The night was dark, and the future was darker still. As the trio sat around the King, they could see that the future was going to be very different than what had transpired. And each had a very different idea of what that future would look like.

The first was the King's nephew, and his Master of Laws, the young Prince Viserys. He leaned over the King's deathbed to whisper a faint prayer to the Seven to take his soul up with them. An orphan himself, he had proven himself to the King time and time again, yet he had still not arranged for a betrothal to his eldest daughter, the Princess Viserra, who was certainly going to become Queen. His ideal future was one of him seated upon the Iron Throne. He had the blonde, wispy hair of the Targaryens, coupled with a broad chest and domineering style that seemed to fit the black-haired Baratheons more than him. Yet, he was still a close confidante of King Valarr.

The second was the Hand of the King, the Grand Maester Orwen. A slight man, but linked with many chains from his years of experience at the Citadel, he too hoped for a bright future for the Seven Kingdoms. He knew that Princess Viserra would keep him on as Grand Maester, but as Hand of the King…he did not know. His future belonged next to the King or Queen, whoever they would be. His teeth gritted as he watched the ailing King, true pain in his eyes.

The third was but an observer, sitting in the shadows of the room. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Robin Snow, a bastard of the King himself, sired when the King was but a boy. He was nearly 12 years older than King Valarr's eldest son, whom he had with Alysanne years later. Black hair and violet eyes adorned the Lord Commander, staring forward at the King. His future was murkier still…standing in front of a King at war, serving him honorably.

"My son…" King Valarr groaned in pain, opening his eyes for the first time in days. His eyes were glued to Prince Viserys, not born of his blood at all.

"My King," Viserys said softly. "You are mistaken. I am Viserys, your nephew. Blood of your brother."

If Valarr heard them, which he likely didn't due to the illness, he paid no attention to them. "You have come home," Valarr said, his voice ragged. His body began to shake with great sobs as he began to cry. "My beloved son…"

It was clear then that he did not mean Prince Aerys, the young boy he'd sent to Dorne to become allies with the Prince. He meant Prince Rhaegel. Viserys did his best not to act out, biting his lip so hard it bled.

"Do you forgive me?" Valarr asked, his eyes pained and hopeful as he gazed at what he thought was his lost son.

"I do," Viserys said quietly. It didn't take long after that. As if a great weight had been taken off his shoulders, Valarr sagged back into bed and was taken by the Stranger. The old King was dead.

"Someone call for Princess Viserra at once," The Grand Maester said immediately, rising to his feet, great chains clanking as he did so. "She is to be crowned Queen as soon as the Septon can make it to the Red Keep."

Viserys carefully pried himself away from the cool fingers of the dead king. "I must do it," He said to them. "She must hear from her own blood, from a Targaryen."

So, it was done. The Grand Maester and Ser Snow waited in the King's chambers while the prince went to get Viserra. It was that point that maesters would point back to as a turning point in Westerosi history. The great man navigated through the Red Keep easily, turning through corridors and hallways that would've stumped a non-Valyrian. It was clear that Viserys Targaryen was a true dragon.

The stories go that Viserra Targaryen was sleeping when the door was opened. But from that point on, maesters would differ. But for the purposes of this story…you are allowed into the chambers of the Princess of Dragonstone, temporarily at the Red Keep to be by her ailing father's side. It was only coincidence that she was not at his side the night of his passing, as she had been with him every other night until then. Some said that she was lending her strength to him.

Viserys Targaryen would not draw his sword. But Viserra Targaryen would be dead before the night was out. Those that would eventually hate Prince Viserys say that he killed her while she was asleep. But that is also untrue.

She raised her head from her pillow and looked at her cousin. "Viserys," She whispered softly as she watched him approach. "My father…"

"Is dead," Viserys said crisply, running his hand through his bright hair. "And means for you to take the throne."

"That is not why you have come," Viserra rose to sit up, staring at her cousin with a calm sort of look in her eyes. "You mean to take the throne for yourself. Do not deny it, dear cousin, for you are not a good liar."

"You have a choice, Viserra," Viserys replied. "Wed me and you may live. Deny me, and you will pay for it with your life."

Viserys' face was beginning to stream with tears, for many said he did love her. But Viserra's heart and mind were already locked to him from years of mistrust. "I have made my decision, Viserys." She said, her head held high. "I deny you."

A sort of strangled cry wrenched from his throat and he leapt into the bed of Viserra. He grabbed a pillow and shoved it onto her face, quickly beginning to smother the girl. Viserra, while a scrappy fighter, was no match for the trained warrior. Scratches from the Princess left deep scars down his back and stomach, her feet kicking him over and over again. But he did not let go. He began to sob, his head burying into the other side of the pillow. It was too late. Viserra Targaryen was dead.

It was like that for ten minutes before Viserys got a hold of himself. He slowly removed the pillow, and set it aside. He got to his feet and moved the body and the room to make it more believable that she had passed in her sleep. Then, he made his way back to the king's chambers.

Grand Maester Orwen and Robin Snow looked up at him with anticipation, for they intended to anoint a Queen that night. But the tears in Viserys' eyes and the way he carried himself confirmed the worst. "Not Viserra…" Orwen whispered as he fell to his knees. It would not just be Targaryens whom the Stranger would claim that night. Orwen was said to pass of a heart attack that very moment.

Ser Snow looked up at Prince Viserys. "I am duty bound to call for Prince Aerys' return."

Viserys' hand moved to the pommel of his sword. Robin Snow simply laughed, shaking his head. "Prince Viserys, you know I serve none but the King. And you know I am much more gifted with a sword than yourself. If you are wise, you would not draw yours. I give you an opportunity, Prince."

"I'm listening," Viserys replied.

"Tomorrow, I will tell the court that Princess Viserra died the same way as her father, as I'm sure she did," Robin did not doubt the veracity of Viserys' statement there. "I will recommend a summoning of a Great Council, to be held at Summerhall, your stronghold."

Viserys did not like the plan, for there were many ways for it to go wrong. But, he still preferred it to lying smote on the ground by Ser Robin Snow. So he simply nodded. However, there were many wrinkles that would come to the plan going forward.

**A/N: This was a bit shorter than I would've liked, but I wanted to get this out there today so people could still use their weekend on this. I rated this T for now but it is subject to change going forward. This is based off of a Great Council in the future. I would love characters of all backgrounds, but a few I would need would be Heads/Heirs of Major Houses, and maybe some Dornish. I would maybe be willing to listen to a Targaryen submission, but those should be rare.  
The time on this is intentionally nebulous. Dragons are still a thing, this is before the tragedy of Summerhall. This is canon-aligned but not strictly canon. I will need allies of people, potential spouses, potential players in the Game, people that want independence, etc., as this is still not very far from the War of Conquest. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to PM me, as my inbox is always open.**

**Info on the Four Main Targaryens**

Prince Rhaegel Targaryen, "the Maniac of Myr" was banished by his father from Westeros for trying to steal a Dragon rather than ask for one. He ended up burning part of the city in his escape, leaving on a dragon for Essos. He is quite mad and not well-liked by anyone in King's Landing. He is regarded as an anomaly, but very powerful. Many expect him to show up at Summerhall, even if uninvited. He looks gaunt most of the time, but is not unattractive.

Prince Viserys Targaryen, "Summer's King", is the lord of Summerhall currently. He is well-liked by the populace for his kind and good-looking demeanor. He is not from the main line, but many think he would make a better king or Queen than anyone else. He was a hero in the last war, which is what got him knighted, turning back an army of Dornish in the last Dornish war. He has tamed a dragon.

Prince Aerys Targaryen, "Maron's Maid", is the next son of King Valarr. Mocked because of rumors that have swirled that he is the male lover of Maron Martell, the Prince of Dorne, he rarely returns home and often fuels the fires that he is doing this because of it. He is regarded as weak and is not well thought of by the general public. He has yet to tame a dragon despite his age.

Princess Shaena Targaryen, "Queen of Glass" is much like her older sister Viserra: strong-willed, angry, and intelligent. She is currently in Casterly Rock, on a trip by her father to convince the North, Riverlands, and Westerlands to send people to King's Landing to represent them. She is brittle and easy to anger. But she is regarded as capable, even if she is a woman. She has tamed a dragon.

Prince Naerys Targaryen, "The Spring Princess", is very different than the rest of them, resembling Aerys more than anyone else. Soft and gentle, she hardly takes sides in any conflict. She is most likely going to be married off to someone, as that is all people think she serves a purpose for. She is good-looking as well, making her a prize for any young lordling.

**FORM (and on profile as well)**

Name:

Age:

Gender:

Nicknames/Titles if applicable:

Sexuality:

House:

Personality (about a paragraph):

History (paragraph or two):

Appearance (one paragraph):

Clothing (Formal, Traveling, Sleepwear):

Why are they involved (Head of House, etc.):

What's their ambition:

Married/Betrothed? (ask if with a Targ):

If not, where would they look?:

Other Romance details (who are they attracted to, would they sire bastards, do they love their spouse, etc.):

Current Location (as some may not be at home):

Would they go to Summerhall for the Great Council:

Possible Breaking Point for Character:

Possible Plot Points for character (3):

Weapon of Choice:

Opinions of…

Prince Viserys (public info):

Prince Rhaegel (public info):

Prince Aerys:

Princess Shaena:

Princess Naerys:


	2. Chapter 1

_**The Great Council (SYOC)**_

_**Chapter 1: The Exile**_

_**The Free City of Myr**_

Rhaegel Targaryen was an enigma. That much was for sure. And Mariss wasn't even sure if Rhaegel knew who Rhaegel was. Mariss had served Rhaegel now for about four years, the duration he'd been in Myr for. When he had originally came, he had brought fire and blood. When he had stayed, he had settled a discontented city. But it didn't quell the discontent in his heart.

For a time, Mariss had been sure that the light haired beauty was something of an asexual, not preferring men or women in the bedroom. But then, Rhaegel's eyes would attach to a woman's bosom, or even to a man's crotch. He would walk into his room to calm him before his shift ended, and he would be stark naked, and to be honest, it would cause a stirring in Mariss' chest, but apparently none in Rhaegel's.

As Mariss climbed the stairs to the tower in which Rhaegel presided, he found himself thinking about the day Rhaegel had arrived. He had been just three-and-ten back then, his olive skin not quite the darker tone it would turn now, and his brown hair was close cropped, not the shaggy hair in which he possessed now. Back then, he had been a slave. He owed everything to Rhaegel. The stiff Targaryen had allowed him into his service, and allowed him to train and become his sworn shield. A number of adjectives could be described about Rhaegel Targaryen, but cruel was not one of them.

So, as he turned the handle to the Prince's bedroom, he pondered the question: _why did he steal Zaira? _The small green-and-white she-dragon was normally kept outside of Myr's direct city borders. When Rhaegel needed her, she would come.

Rhaegel was already in bed when he came in. The man was asleep, his nest of silvery blonde hair carefully done in thick braids that went down above the covers. Today should be an easy shift, Mariss thought. With Rhaegel already asleep, it should be no problem. And it wasn't, for about half an hour.

Then, a pounding on the door startled both him and the Prince. Mariss made his way quickly to the door, and opened it. Torchlight flickered in the hallway, giving light to a herald that stood in front of Mariss.

"What is it?" The guard hissed at him, angered that now he would have to calm Rhaegel back down enough to sleep.

"News for the Prince," The herald said with a confident tone.

"Tell me and be gone," Mariss snapped and waited for the message.

"King Valarr is dead. As is the Princess of Dragonstone. King Regent Viserys Targaryen reigns in their absence and has called for a Great Council of Westerosi lords to meet in Summerhall. Any Targaryen relation with a claim may send a raven to the Citadel within the next three weeks," He stated, holding up a small paper message that he had received.

"Dead?" Mariss whispered in wonderment as he closed the door.

"That changes things," Rhaegel's soft voice came from the bed, having heard every word that the herald said.

"I'm sorry for the disturbance, my Prince." Mariss said carefully as he approached the bed, but Rhaegel paid him no heed.

"The throne is more open than ever before," His voice was faint, but determined. "Open for the taking."

Mariss bit his lip, remembering words his mother used to say before she had passed. _Be careful with those that believe they are destined, _she would say, _for they often ignore a great many faults of their own. _He was finding that to be true in Rhaegel Targaryen.

"A question," Rhaegel turned to him from in his sheets, those violet eyes latching onto Mariss with an intensity that made him feel like the only man alive. Those eyes would've sent him to his knees when he was younger. But now, they just make him feel queasy.

"Yes, my Prince?"

"Will you come with me to Westeros?" Rhaegel asked openly, candidly.

"If you so desire, my Prince," Mariss replied honestly, not sure what his Myrish sworn sword could do in comparison to any Westerosi guard.

"I do," Rhaegel replied. "And a second one, if you wouldn't mind."

Mariss cracked a smile at the Prince's formality. "Only if you grant me one in return, my Prince."

Rhaegel nodded, not getting the joke in the slightest as he agreed to the man's demand. "What do you want out of being my sworn sword?" His eyes looked up at Mariss, waiting for the truth.

"Uh," Mariss grunted a little in an effort to clear his throat. "I can't say I'm sure, my Prince. The bags of gold do help keep me near." He admitted. That money had allowed him to purchase himself out of slavery, with a little nudging from Rhaegel to help.

"And your question?" Rhaegel looked up at him expectantly.

_Ask it, _a voice said in his head. "Why did you choose to leave Westeros?" He blurted out.

His pearly white teeth gently nibbled on his lower lip as he thought. Rhaegel slowly sat up in bed, revealing his pale chest to Mariss. He was muscular, having trained with the soldiers for years, with a red Targaryen dragon tattoo stretching over his left side. It was uncommon for royalty to have a tattoo, but Rhaegel was very different from any other royalty.

"They say it was for stealing a dragon," Rhaegel whispered. "For Zaira."

"Was that it?" Mariss asked, suddenly wanting the conversation to be over as he felt that Rhaegel was getting whipped up into one of his moods.

"No," Rhaegel's voice turned from soft to sharp, the syllable echoing through the room. "It was for this." He pushed back the covers and made his way to one side of the room.

Mariss kept in a gasp as he saw that the prince was undressed. See, that was what he was talking about. Some days, he would be completely dressed, and he would feel like the prince wanted him nowhere near. But on days like these, he remembered why his crush had been kindled a few years before. That muscular back, those toned legs...but he knew that he couldn't. He wouldn't.

His attention was distracted when he noticed the man pulling out a blade from a hidden compartment in the wall. There was no mistaking it. The black as night hilt, the ruby embedded in the center, it's domineering glow even in the blackness of the room. It could be none other than Blackfyre itself.

"My father said horrible things to me," Rhaegel winced as he spoke, tracing the hilt of the blade with his fingers. "I should go to the Citadel and foresake my claim. I was no Targaryen," His voice rose in anger as he spoke. "I was no son of his."

Mariss walked towards him and paid special attention to not stare, his hands gently going onto the older man's shoulders and rubbing the taut skin there. Rhaegel took a shallow breath and exhaled. "I knew taking a dragon would do nothing. Even if I did burn a section of the city on my way out. The way to get him would be to take the blade of kings. See, he had given Dark Sister to Viserys to use against the Dornish, and Blackfyre sat unused in his chambers most of the time. It took no real skill to take it. That's why he said I should never return. He knew I wouldn't return the sword."

"What do you do now?" He asked softly.

"It proves my claim," Rhaegel whispered faintly. "I have Blackfyre, I am the eldest born son. I ride a dragon. Nothing the pretenders can do can change destiny. You should know it as well as anyone, as you follow the Lord of Light?"

Mariss just nodded, the words of his mother still echoing lightly in his ears. But Rhaegel had taken a massive step towards legitimacy, and the sword simply proved it. He was a Targaryen. He was the eldest. And he was coming home.

_**Sunspear**_

Hardly anyone was more different to Rhaegel Targaryen than his own brother, Aerys. He was the delight of the Dornish court, dressed in fine silks, played up as their royal visitor from the Seven Kingdoms. Inside the sandy castle, the jests of "Maron's Maid" and "Dornish Delight" were replaced by the sounds of merry laughter and genuine amity among the Dornish that he stayed with.

It was a busy day in Sunspear, as many were visiting from other parts of Dorne. All the lords and ladies were itching to see both Princes, who were seated together on the floor of the wide dining hall. All of the tables had been cleared, giving lords and ladies more room to be seated and talk. Ladies grinned to themselves and pointed at the two royal men at the head of the hall, who were making the most of the situation.

Aerys was dressed in fine silk, given to the Dornish by Myr. The pale purple garment fit well with Aerys' eyes, and the shin-length boots that he wore clearly had an impression on his Dornish friend. His shoulder-length blonde hair was not nearly as long as some of his siblings or cousins, but it had been tied into a wide ponytail for that day.

If anyone had seen them at a Westerosi court, it would be cause for a major scandal. The far older Maron Martell, nearing 27 in fact, was grinning widely as his Targaryen lover slid into his lap, facing him.

"I wish I could stay here forever," The young prince whispered into the man's tan chest.

"You can," Maron murmured in response, allowing his hand to slide up the back of Aerys' shirt. "And we can keep doing this as long as you'd like. Dorne is independent. I would fight for you if I had to."

Aerys squirmed at the gentle touch of the Prince of Dorne, allowing himself to rub against Maron's crotch lightly. He knew the Prince had a busy schedule, but he knew just how to get him out of it…

Just as the Dornish prince started to tug his belt loose, a raven flew into the hall as fast as it could. Young Lord Yronwood was the one to receive it, and all talking went quiet. "King Valarr and Princess Viserra are dead. Viserys reigns as King Regent. Our allies are needed in King's Landing. Great Council at Summerhall in Three Weeks. Ser Athen Rosby."

Maron's eyes flashed darkly as he gripped the waist of Prince Aerys. The Dornish could vote at the Great Council, to be sure, but they could not send nearly as many numbers as those that were truly part of Westeros. And, the fact that Prince Aerys had told him a few days ago that he had transitioned from a man-maid to a man with Ser Rosby when he was just three-and-ten, was weighing on his mind. The fact that he'd have to work with him...didn't make him particularly happy.

People would say that Maron Martell's eyes were a combination of desire, jealousy, and rage in that moment. He would drag Aerys Targaryen to their bedchamber by his ponytail, the young prince protesting and promising that he had no part in it.

"What the hell?" Maron insisted when they got inside. "Now you must go! You have to present your claim at the Great Council."

"I don't have to do anything," Aerys pouted lightly, nursing his hair when Maron finally let go. "I could stay here with you, live here with you."

"No, no, no," Maron said darkly and angrily, spitting with rage at the fact that his pretty lover was being taken from him. "You have to. It's your birthright. Perhaps once things settle down...I can make a visit to King's Landing. You can come to Sunspear. But you have to go."

"Maron…" Aerys protested softly, sliding his hands down the Dornishman's loose pants and coming in contact with what he wished.

"Once more," Maron agreed as he stared at the young prince. When he began to complain again, he shushed him. "Then I send you to Summerhall."

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: There are still a number of positions still available. Those that I need most include: any and all allies of the claimants, any lovers or betrothed or people who want to be one of those things with any of the Targaryens. Please send me a PM before you submit about what you want to do so I can effectively clear the spot for you. What I want most is future betrothed/married to any of the Princes/Princess, or a lover of any of these. You may submit Maron Martell or Ser Rosby, or anyone else for that matter. Just because they are mentioned as lovers does not mean they will remain that way. Things can change :) Thank you for all of your support! The form is on my profile. Submit one, two, three, I don't care, just get in here and have fun! And Review, of course.**_


	3. Chapter 2

**_A/N: Thank you to those that have submitted! Look at the Author's Note at the end of the chapter to look at what I really need (tightening down some things for everyone)_**

Chapter 2

**_The Red Keep_**

Viserys sat on the throne, Dark Sister strapped to his side. "My lord, when will you leave for Summerhall?" One of the councilors asked as they stood at the bottom, taking notes as he always did. "Most of the lords are on their way now, aside from some stragglers."

Viserys tapped his finger against the iron, thinking. "I will arrive on the day it begins. Atop Risarryo," He had chosen the name for the dragon himself, after a Pentoshi lord that he'd encountered as a child. He fingered the edge of the hilt of his sword, watching quietly as the men below continued to go about their business.

He was pleased with how well it was going so far. His suggestion that he become King Regent was readily accepted by the lords of the council. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who was concerned with Shaena's brashness, or with Aerys' inexperience. It had fit like glove. Viserys had even found an old crown that had belonged to a King Regent before. He couldn't wear the official crown, of course, that would set everyone into arguments all over again, but the old iron one would do. It gave him even more of an air of power than he already had.

A few guards at the edge of the room had gone silent, hearing something in the hallway. A lord nervously chuckled and shied away from the doorway, edging towards the center of the room. Viserys sat up further on his throne, a frown beginning to spread on his features. "What's going on?" Viserys asked clearly. No one answered, just getting out of the way of the door.

"Off!" A voice screamed, the door slamming open. Just like that, Shaena Targaryen had made her grand entrance. Silvery-blonde hair flying, mail-adorning, fireball of a Targaryen. Her eyes were a deep purple, sparks flickering in them. "Off!" She yelled again, staring a challenge up at Viserys.

Viserys took one look at the small council members that were in the room and he knew it was helping him. Disgust was clear on the face of Lord Redwyne, shock on Ser Snow's, and embarrassment on the face of Lord Royce. "Oh Shaena, you know how to make an entrance," Viserys jested lightly as he smiled.

A couple lords laughed, and it only grew her irritation. "You sit upon my father's throne! How dare you!" She screamed, reaching for her sword.

_Ah, _Viserys thought, _now you overstep. _Ser Snow stepped in front of her with a few members of the Kingsguard, their hands on their hilts. She was never one for good politics. She had played right into his hands. Every lord had been hoping that Shaena had tamed over the last few years, but this was quickly proving them wrong. They'd have no choice but to set her aside.

"I understand that this is a difficult time for you," Viserys said with concern in his voice, standing up on one of the steps. "But to come into the Red Keep and start making threats is no way to start your supposed reign. I am but holding it for the next King or Queen who steps up at the Great Council. That should be of no concern to you. I am bound by the power of the small council."

Shaena was livid, her hand releasing her sword but stomping towards the Hand of the King, a startled Lord Celtigar. "Have you no brains!" She yelled into his face. "Or no balls!" She thundered.

Viserys calmly observed from the top of the Iron Throne. "I ask that you either remove yourself, Princess, or we will have to escort you from the hall. If you wish to ask about passage to Summerhall, you may speak with the castellan, otherwise, good day," He began to climb down the steps of the throne. He could feel the lords' eyes on him.

Lord Redwyne watched him carefully, resting his back against one of the walls. He saw the broad shoulders, the confidence that Viserys held. He was fit for the title. He glanced over at Shaena, and remembered what Lord Tyrell had asked him: Has she changed? That answer was a firm no.

Princess Shaena simply growled out a response and stomped from the throne room. Her cheeks burned as she headed up the stairs, tossing parts of her armor at the wall as she went. Soon, she just was in her underclothes, a set of dark clingy fabrics. She hated politics, she thought, as her eyes watered. She would've felt much more at ease if she had been able to draw her sword. But one look from Ser Snow had confirmed that she could've been cut to ribbons within a few moments. She could take Snow, Viserys too, but not the entirety of the Kingsguard.

She went where she had always found solace: her sister's room. As she pushed open the door to Viserra's room, she noticed that light was streaming in from the windows, the curtains pulled back, and the room cleaned. No one was supposed to have been in it since her sister had died just a week before. "Who goes there?" Shaena asked warily as she noticed sounds coming from one of the closets.

"Shaena?" A head peeked out of it. Her sister Naerys beamed and ran to her, colliding against her with a hug. She wore a dress of light green, with nice gems braided neatly into her hair. Shaena felt the familiar pang of jealousy go through her, knowing that everyone saw her as the 'wild one' and Naerys was the 'beautiful one'.

"I'm so glad you're back," Naerys said, embracing her. "So much has been going on, and I'm here alone, and…" She prattled on, telling her about the lords and the knights and the cooks and the stableboys that she'd been watching, but it was all dull noise to Shaena.

"How was Casterly Rock?" Shaena cut in when she finally found an opportunity to.

"Wonderful," Naerys got the hint, concealing her joy. "The Lannister was brilliant, I mean they've all been brilliant, but he was especially so. I just don't know how I'll choose."

_You won't, _Shaena thought dully, _not if Viserys or Aerys has their say. _"I see," Shaena said bitterly. She hadn't had suitors in years, not since they seemed to realize that she didn't have much care for romantic affection. But now, she knew they'd come back. Now that she was tipped for the throne, they would come.

"So, you're caught between two lions?" Shaena joked lightly, trying to lighten the mood for the sake of her sister.

"I know," Naerys said, running a hand through her silvery hair. "Ser Rowan is wonderful too. There's so many of them, Shaena, I just don't know what to do. But Rowan, he…" She bit her lip lightly as she remembered. "We'd been close once, but he was promised to Viserra."

"He isn't anymore," Shaena replied.

Naerys slapped her playfully on the shoulder. "Don't say that!" She scolded her older sister lightly. "But yeah, he isn't anymore." She agreed.

"Are you looking through her dresses?" Shaena asked as she looked at the closet, seeing some were falling off the hooks that Viserra had kept them on. Dark colors mostly, as she had taken after the reds and blacks of House Targaryen since she believed she would be queen.

"Yeah," She said. "I found this, and actually, it's good you came because I wanted to ask you about it." Naerys revealed a small bit of parchment that she had found in a light-colored dress, a rarity for Princess Viserra.

"It's a letter," Naerys whispered. "From an admirer. It isn't signed or anything, but it looks like it came by way of raven, look at the little holes in it from the talons."

Shaena nodded as she glanced at it. "Read it to me," She replied, not a very good reader, or learner, but she did know how to read maps, wield a sword, and command an army.

"It says: _Dear sweet Viserra, my heart yearns for you, to return to you. I remember that night after the jousts in Highgarden, it was the best day of my life. I mourn for what we lost, for who we lost…but I await the days ahead for when we may see each other again." _Naerys read aloud.

"It's not from Rowan, that's for sure," Shaena said dryly, knowing the two had been close in her final days, and had been doing a fair amount of making out. "He wasn't missing anything,"

That just prompted Naerys' second slap on her shoulder, focusing on the text. "For who we lost, for what we lost?" Naerys was confused. "Do you remember Highgarden, what this could've been about?"

Shaena tried to remember, thinking back. It clicked after a fair amount of thinking, yes, it had been the jousting tournament in Highgarden. Nearly seven years ago. She had been just nine, wrapped up in the festivities and the jousting that she could barely remember what had happened. Her father had spent a lot of time with the Tyrells, she knew, so it was unlikely it was one of them. Plus, the young Lord Tyrell hadn't even tried for Viserra's hand, even though she had expected it.

"That was Rhaegel and Viserys' first tournament," Shaena said, her voice gentle. "The jousts lasted nearly a week. Rhaegel was the winner, if I remember right," She told Naerys. "He anointed Viserra Queen of Love and Beauty. Many thought they would be promised to one another, but it just never really happened."

Naerys nodded, listening to Shaena as she looked up at her. "Dad never liked being married to his sister," Naerys fiddled with some fabric of one of the dresses. "He didn't want us to do the same thing. Mom had wanted you to marry Aerys, and Rhaegel or Viserys with Viserra, but she died before she could convince him."

"Me marrying Aerys," Shaena chuckled at the thought. "Horrifying."

Naerys thought as she put her hand on the dress, watching quietly. Who else could it have been? She had been made to stay at the castle, not travelling with the rest of the family. It was useless to try for more. "I'll keep investigating," Naerys said triumphantly as she got to her feet, planning to go talk to some of the castle guards who had been there longer than most of them.

"Before you go," Shaena gripped her arm. "I want to talk to you."

Naerys tensed, as if she already knew where the conversation would lead. "Shaena…"

"Naerys," Shaena looked at her softly, pleading with her sister silently. "If you would go to the Council and throw your support behind me, it could convince a lot of people to get off the sidelines for me. It would mean a lot, little sister."

Naerys bit her pink lips softly, not wanting to commit to anything. "Viserys, he said that you would try to convince me to do that. He said that…" She whispered lightly.

Shaena sighed as she realized. "Don't fall for the crown and the heroics, little sister." She got up to go, tugging on one of Viserra's dresses as she knew that she had to look courtlier while she attended the Red Keep. "It won't last."

"I didn't say anything," Naerys protested, trying to follow her to the door.

"You didn't have to," Shaena slammed the door in her face, and tears threatened to come for the second time that day. If she couldn't even convince her little sister, then what can did she have with the entirety of Westeros?

**_A/N: Thank you to all of those that have submitted so far. I haven't gotten many, but if you would like to submit, I do need lovers/betrothal options for all of them, particularly Viserys, Aerys, Shaena and Rhaegel. I don't know why, but Naerys was very popular._**

**_ Firstly, realize that most of these people don't realize what Viserys has done. It's not public info. Most shouldn't even be onto him, as they want a good King. So, that being said, I need certain regions to back certain people in order to make this interesting. That means people like the Tyrells or Baratheons should back a steadier figure like Viserys or Aerys. So please, just send a PM if you want to talk about anything, I'm willing to help, but I also need to keep a bit of a tighter leash on this thing than I have been. _**


	4. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3: The Hunt_**

Naerys wore a tight jacket on, trying to ignore the beating rain that was pummeling her as she made her ascent onto the island. The sky was nearly black, lightning cracked in the distance, and the castle ahead looked ominous with the stormy night. She trudged on, making her way from the little ship that had carried her there. She ordered her attendants to stay on the boat, clearing her to go alone.

Bright blue standards ripped about in the wind, silver seahorses riding the sky. A storm near Driftmark wasn't uncommon, but it was less so than its unpleasant sister, Dragonstone. There were no guards stationed outside.

Fear began to grip Naerys. What if they were gone? Had they already left for Summerhall? Oh please, let them be there, she thought. She pulled open one of the doors with great difficulty and took a step inside.

The inside of the castle was pleasant, with candles sitting in holders on little desks, several silver-haired guards wandering about. Naerys took her jacket off and set it on a holder that sat just to the right of the doors. She wore a teal and silver dress, attempting to boast her grandmother's house colors to show that she was a friend, an ally. She would need all the help she could get here.

Rumor was that the Lord of the Tides had gone near mad since the death of Viserra Targaryen. Despite being near ten years her elder, it was he that was chosen to be her betrothed. Lords like the Tyrells, Reynes, and Arryns had ceased to give an effort in the last few weeks beforehand, essentially granting it to the elder Velaryon. Startlingly, even though he was still mourning, he had already taken a second betrothed, Lady Celtigar of Claw Isle.

It wasn't just Viserra's death, either. The whole reason he had been chosen to become Viserra's betrothed was because he _wasn't _Lord of the Tides. That had changed when his nephew drowned at sea. His brother's disappearance years before, and now his nephew's death left him as the Lord of Driftmark. He supposedly blamed himself for little Jaecaerys' death.

"Who are you?" One of the guards asked from about fifteen feet away, lounging in one of the chairs.

"A visitor," Naerys straightened, her hair done back in a now-wet braid. "For the Lord."

She braced herself for the response that he had already left, along with his new betrothed. "I would say he is asleep, but that's likely false." A guard got to his feet. "I'm not sure even Helena is that good."

A few guards chortled and the one that had spoken up gestured for her to follow him. Elaborate portraits hung on the pale walls of the castle, past Lords of the Tides and their wives, and Naerys was startled by how many silver haired Targaryens accompanied them. House Velaryon was notably less particular about keeping the bloodline pure than their Targaryen brethren.

Naerys rubbed her arms quietly while she waited. The guard slipped into the lord's solar and she could hear some discussion. He then stepped out and waved her inside.

Lord Daeron Velaryon was a gaunt man of just a bit over thirty. His pale violet eyes gazed up at her with an intensity that she hadn't seen ever since her older brother had left. A woman sat at his side, with tawny brown hair and a gentle smile.

"I should've told the guard to send you right away," Daeron said as he sat up further. "I didn't know that royalty was asking to see me."

Naerys felt heat rise through her neck and cheeks. "That's alright, my lord." She said. "I was just hoping you hadn't left for Summerhall yet."

"Not quite," Daeron agreed, sitting up further in bed next to the Celtigar woman. He wore a robe of soft light blue fabric, his silver hair reaching his shoulders with ease, nearly touching his chest. "What did you want, dear child?"

Naerys was surprised by the reception. He didn't seem the man that everyone had said he'd become. He seemed…normal. She was reminded that Viserra had to have seen something in him to choose him over so many more. "I-I was looking through some of Viserra's things, and I came across a letter."

Daeron tensed visibly, his shoulders tightening and Helena Celtigar's hand clamped one of them in her palm. "A letter?" He asked through gritted teeth.

Naerys rubbed her foot against the ground as she thought how to word it. "It was a love letter. It didn't have a name, so I thought you might…know something about it."

"That's not a lot of information to go off of," Daeron replied with a nervous chuckle, his head falling onto the sturdier woman's shoulder. "Not any."

"It mentioned Highgarden. A joust about seven years ago," Naerys explained.

Something flashed in his eyes and he grabbed hold of his betrothed's hand and clung onto it. His pale eyes shut, and he began to shake a little bit. Naerys didn't know what to do, so she stood awkwardly, hovering over the bed. When she attempted to come closer to help, the Celtigar shook her head quickly. Helena wrapped her arms around him and whispered something into his ear. Naerys didn't quite get it, but it sounded like, "It was bound to happen," or "It was going to happen".

"I'm sorry," Naerys said. "I didn't mean to bring up a sore subject."

"It isn't," Daeron said quietly as he opened his eyes once more. "It wasn't something I thought would return."

"So, do you know?" Naerys asked. "Who was it to?"

Daeron ran his hand through his hair. "It was the entire reason why the King asked me to show an interest in her. I-I shouldn't tell you who it is, or what happened. Not at all. The King swore me to secrecy, under pain of death. He berated and yelled at the Tyrells, the Reynes, all of 'em, but it didn't shake them. It was only us that agreed."

"Please?" Naerys asked with a hint of desperation in her voice. "I just want to know the truth."

It took a long moment before Daeron slowly nodded. "I will not divulge who. He is a dangerous man; an incredible swordsman and I am not going to cross his path. I am in enough danger by agreeing to be betrothed to Viserra in the first place."

"Why did you?" Naerys pried gently.

Daeron looked up at her. "My King asked. It was all connected to the tourney at Highgarden all those years before."

She felt as though she were being transported back seven years as the Lord of the Tides began to speak. "It was a good tournament; all the lords of Westeros had sent their best. In the end, of course, it was Rhaegel Targaryen who took home the crown. But that wasn't the focus. That night, supposedly, a man had taken Viserra Targaryen's maidenhead. Some said willingly, some said not. I know that it was, and that letter just proves it more. They were caught, but not before the deed was done. Lord Tyrell knew within the night, and he passed the information to the lords who were bidding for her hand. The King's finely laid plans were in tatters by the time the dawn came."

"What?" Naerys' mouth was agape as she listened, not able to believe the words he was saying. But something in the back of her mind prodded at her, saying that it was ringing true. Why would he lie? Why would all those suitors back out at the last moment?

"It didn't end there." Daeron continued. "They kept meeting, despite the King's express refusal for them to. They found out that she was going to have his child. The King was furious and forced the poor girl to drink moon tea until the baby was no more. I think that destroyed what little was left of Viserra Targaryen's relationship with her father. She put up public appearances, but deep down, she hated him."

Naerys' mind swam, feeling like she was bogged down in the Riverlands' mud after a long winter. She took a seat carefully on the bed, running her hand through her hair quietly. "How do I figure out who it was, if you won't tell me?"

"He will be at Summerhall," He said shortly. "You should not go looking for him, for you will only bring yourself pain and misery. You've heard the story, girl, now leave it be. The lords of Westeros are content to leave the wound closed, so you should be too."

"I'm not," A flash of her sister Shaena was seen inside of her as she snapped back at the lord.

He rose from his bed, and for a moment Naerys pondered if he was going to strike her. But instead, he just grumbled and pushed his way past her, leaving out the door that Naerys had came in. She sighed and fell against the bedsheets, altogether forgetting that Helena Celtigar still sat just above her in the same bed.

"I was his first betrothed," Helena said softly, brushing her brown hair back. "He put me aside because the King asked, but I don't think he ever forgot me." She said softly.

Naerys sat up slowly and turned to look at the woman. "Do you know?"

"I do," She confirmed. "But I am not going to tell you if my future husband won't. I respect his judgment on this one. However, if you listen to me very carefully, perhaps you can find out for yourself."

Naerys eagerly listened as the girl from Claw Isle told her the way. "There is a big black book, in Viserra Targaryen's private study. It is a collection of all the letters she received from suitors, from Lord Reyne to Lord Tyrell, Lord Tarth to Lord Manderly. The clue you are looking for is in there. The answer you are looking for is in it."

Naerys groaned loudly, burying her head in her palms. "The answer was right there. It was feet from my very eyes, and I was unable to find it."

Helena put a gentle hand on the girl's cheek. "Sometimes there are reasons why you go places. I think the gods wanted you here tonight. I think I know the reason, as well. You needed to be warned. This book…it has many secrets. Viserra knew a lot, told a lot. She…knew things that probably shouldn't be told out in public. Family secrets, family things. Rumors that were quieted because of the power of high lords and ladies. It's more salacious than stories you'll find in a whorehouse."

"Have you seen it?" Naerys asked.

"No," Helena replied, fingering the bedsheet lightly. "But Daeron has. It's why he's so scared to go to the Red Keep. He knows the secrets of those inside. Be careful, dear girl. Someone is looking for that book. Who it is, I do not know. It could be many. Be on your guard. Keep watch. If you need an ally at Summerhall, remember we will be there."

Naerys thanked her quickly and all but ran from the chamber, dashing out to the room that she had been in before. She grabbed her coat and slung it on over her, braving the rain back towards her little boat. They sailed back towards King's Landing.

"Get some rest," An attendant told her softly.

Naerys placated them by laying in a soft feather bed they'd dragged onto it, but she knew that she would not rest. She watched out a low window, the lapping waves, the wee hours of the morning passing by. When they hit shore, she got up and noticed that it was no longer raining. She outpaced her attendants and guards, running for the Red Keep. She slipped in through an entrance by the kitchens, running for Viserra's room. Her study was connected, just slightly off of it to the west.

Luckily, the door wasn't locked. She hurried towards the study and turned the knob. That was locked. "Come on," Naerys nearly cried, as she shook the handle tightly. Luckily, before tears began to stream down her face, she noticed a small key poking out of the edge of a potted plant. She grabbed it and jammed it into the keyhole, turning it.

The room was dark, so Naerys grabbed a candle from the bedroom and walked to the study, lighting a few candles. She paused as she lit one, seeing a bit of haze in the room. Smoke floated near the ceiling, and she noticed one of the candles' wicks was nearly burnt. Someone had been in here. Naerys searched the sections of books, tapping spines and searching for the 'big black book' that was promised to be in there.

"Oh no," Naerys whispered in faint alarm as she noticed a spot missing. Big enough to house a book that was nearly two times the size of a normal one. Someone had gotten here before. Naerys searched the room for clues as to who it might've been.

"Oh," Naerys gasped as she realized. The door was unlocked. It had been locked just a few days ago. Who had the key? Only the highest would have access to it. Viserys.

**_A/N: Another bit of a filler chapter. PLEASE, I need submissions from some of the biggest houses: TYRELL, BARATHEON, MARTELL. I need love interests/betrotheds very badly for Rhaegel/Shaena now. A couple more for Viserys or Aerys wouldn't hurt either. Love interests for Rhaegel/Shaena can very from where they're from. Multiple for everyone would be very much appreciated. Thank you for your support! Tyrells should support Viserys, Martells Aerys, and I need a Baratheon man. Heads of Houses would also be very much appreciated for some as well. _**


	5. Chapter 4

**_Chapter 4_**

**_Summerhall_**

Prince Aerys rubbed his arms as they ascended up the dusty, orange sand steps towards the Targaryens' summer residence. He was dressed in a fine red doublet with a black fastening of a dragon, his blonde hair braided tightly. A small retinue of Dornish lords and landed knights followed behind him. He trudged forward, finally seeing Summerhall.

The high domes and glass rivaled any palace in Dorne for size, that was for sure. A wide array of tents and carts were set up for those visiting. Aerys was surprised to see that many lords and ladies were already there, talking and enjoying in the pleasures that the coordinators of the event had set up. He didn't know what to expect when he arrived, but this…wasn't exactly it.

"What's going on there?" Aerys pointed at a large gathering of ladies that were framed around something.

"I don't know, your Grace," Lord Yronwood responded. "Could be anything."

"I can go check it out," Lady Dalt offered, heading over to see what was going on. Aerys followed at a distance, not the most comfortable with crowds.

Aerys craned his neck to see what it was, but he was interrupted when he noticed a maester from the Citadel heading towards him with a man in a white cloak. Aerys bit his lip, noticing the man was tall, broad-shouldered, and with fiery red hair. Hints of a beard, stubble, was coating his neck and chin. "Ah! Prince Aerys, you have arrived," The maester said with a smile.

"Maester," Aerys inclined his head. "It's wonderful to be here. It's a bit cooler than down in Sunspear," He smiled.

"I'm sure," The man replied, his chains clinking against the dusty ground. "On behalf of the small council, we are lending a Kingsguard to each of the four of you to defend you. As of now, you all are equally in danger and we wanted to reflect that with action."

"Ah," Aerys clucked lightly as he nodded. "I see."

"Ser Athen Tully, at your service," The man bent down into a low bow.

"Rise, ser," Aerys chortled lightly as he watched him. Even bending down, he was nearly as tall as Aerys. "Welcome to our team."

"Thank you, your Grace," Deep blue eyes connected with Aerys'. _Damn it, _Aerys thought, _don't let every beautiful-eyed, muscle-bound soldier get your heart fluttering. Get it together. _It was too late, though, his stomach was flopping like the first time he had met Maron.

"Uh…" Aerys said unintelligently as he gazed at the man. A sharp elbow from one of his lords startled him out of it. "Ow." He complained. "Do you know what's going on, ser?" He gestured at the assembled crowd of ladies. A few of them had dispersed, holding extravagantly colored dresses in their arms.

"A gift," Tully said, turning to look at Aerys. "Maybe you should see for yourself." Without another word, Aerys was hoisted up by his waist.

Aerys gasped at the sudden movement, but he quickly forgot the strong hands on his waist. That was saying something. "What the…" Aerys whispered as he saw what it was. Rhaegel Targaryen stood at the head of the crowd, huge crates behind him full of Myrish lace dresses. His older brother was dressed modestly in a black doublet, fastenings of gold. He felt a pang of jealousy as he watched the people mill around him, beaming and whispering to each other.

Athen Tully let him down quietly. "Do you want to go over?" He asked politely. "I'm sure I could get you through the crowd."

"No," Aerys snarled. "No," He moderated his tone as he realized that he'd barked at the Kingsguard. "I have no words for Rhaegel. He can try to buy and swoon his way to the throne, but it won't get him far. Lords of the Crownlands remember the havoc he wreaked upon them. News will travel."

"As you wish, your Grace," Tully replied. "I will show you to your compound, if that is what you would like."

"I would," Aerys breathed in the summer air, enjoying the warmth. He could never live somewhere cold, Aerys knew, he enjoyed the heat far too much.

Aerys followed the white knight down towards the actual complex of Summerhall. There were many rooms that were divided in two and more beds crammed inside, as the castle was far too small for the lords of Westeros. The tents set outside, he found out, were also for some of the landed knights and smaller lords that wouldn't be able to fit inside the castle.

"There are four compounds," Ser Tully told him as they navigated through the halls. "One for each of you four Targaryens. Entirely different parts of the castle so do not worry. You and Shaena are on the first floor on opposite ends, and Rhaegel and Viserys are on the second on opposite ends, if you should ever need to find them."

"Thank you," Aerys found his rooms relatively quickly, seeing an engraved plate on the door marked _Prince Aerys Targaryen _near the east end of the castle. A dragon was sketched into the door as well. Curiosity got the best of him and he looked across the hall. The leaping trout of House Tully decorated the door, with an engraving that said _Lady Ayla Tully. _So, it was for everyone, Aerys realized. That would make it far simpler.

The compound was large, and part of it was outdoors with a little deck so people could sit outside. He gestured for his knights and servants to set their things up and turned to Ser Tully. "Is my sister here?"

The Riverman nodded. "She arrived just yesterday. It was a sight to see, that much I can tell you," A smirk danced on his lips lightly. "She was unimpressed with Rhaegel's show of generosity."

"Oh no," Aerys realized where it was going, threading his hand through his hair.

"She yelled at him with all the fury she could muster. Oh boy, did she yell," Athen Tully hooted loudly. "He just stood there and took it, credit to him. When she was done, he had that Myrish man escort her back to her rooms. I'd imagine she's still there."

Aerys opened the door and made a move to leave. Ser Tully followed him. "No, you can stay here," Aerys said. "I'm only going to see Shaena. It may not be pretty, but she surely won't murder me, ser."

Ser Tully remained in the compound while Aerys made the long walk to Shaena's own compound. He saw names marked on doors as he went. Lannister, Reyne, Blackwood, Grafton…then he saw a lady standing outside a door. Her eyes were gaunt and weary, but she was very beautiful. Brown hair was simply laying straight down her back, and her shoulders were slumped. Sadness was written clearly on her features. _Lady Aurora Frey_, the door read.

"My lady, may I help you with something?" Aerys asked politely and put a hand on her shoulder. She flinched back as though she had been stung and caught look of him. Panic filled her vision and she stepped inside her room and slammed the door.

Aerys brushed off the encounter as he spotted Shaena's compound ahead. He knocked thrice on the door, waiting for her. One of her attendants opened the door rather than his sister. "Prince Aerys," They said. "The princess has gone out hawking, if you want to find her she's probably off to the west of the castle."

Aerys was uplifted by it, glad that he had an excuse to go back outdoors. He shoved his hands in his pockets and made his way outside. The sun was blinding, but he didn't mind. It was a dry sort of heat, something he was unused to in Sunspear, which was one of the only parts of Dorne that was very humid. He walked to the west, seeing mountains in the distance. No wonder our ancestors chose this as a summer home, Aerys thought, it is beautiful.

He spotted Shaena putting the hawk back into a cage that she could carry. She was wearing a silver dress embroidered with blue throughout, her hair tied up in a bun that the ladies of Highgarden and Oldtown would admire. "Sister," Aerys called as he jogged over towards her.

Darkness filled her features as she took him in. "Aerys," She replied, cold as ice.

"Why are you angry?" Aerys asked, knowing the two of them had been rather close as children, before he had been sent to Dorne and she had been touring the Seven Kingdoms. "It's a wonderful day outside, there's plenty of people to talk to, and you choose to be unhappy."

Shaena threw a balled-up dress, presumably given to her by Rhaegel, at him. It hit him squarely in the chest and thudded onto the ground. "You ruined this!" She yelled, stomping towards him. "You are trying to steal _my _birthright, you idiot! You never think before you do anything! Does Maron have you on a string?"

As if he'd been slapped, Aerys stumbled backwards. "Shaena, I…"

"Don't even say anything," Shaena snarled as she stood by him. "I don't want to hear it. What's done is done, we have to move on regardless."

Aerys let silence hang for a few seconds as her hawk chittered in the cage. His big feathers spread like he wanted to protect his mistress. "What happened to Lady Frey?" He asked suddenly. "She seemed upset."

"Oh Aerys," Shaena sighed and grabbed hold of his arm, beginning to walk with him back towards Summerhall. "Don't you remember the stories? Years ago, they say that she was one of the brightest girls out there, sweet, gentle, anything that you would want in a girl. Something happened, just a few years ago, and she changed completely. She's sad, gloomy, angry. No one knows what happened. I'm surprised her father sent her to be honest, he has others that he could've sent in her stead."

"Oh," Aerys replied quietly.

"That's why you shouldn't be King," Shaena grumbled and tore off without him towards Summerhall, the cage clanking behind her.

Aerys sighed and sat down on the dusty ground. He knew that his servants would hate him for doing it, but he wanted to enjoy the trees that were swinging in the breeze, the summer wind that was messing up his hair. He could stay here forever, Aerys knew, only if he was allowed. Which he wouldn't be.

He was startled when he heard a loud noise behind him. "Older siblings, right?" A slightly arrogant voice came from there.

The man seemed to be a few years older than Aerys, with long black hair that was quite unruly. He was pale, marking him as a foreigner in this part of the country. His near-black eyes glinted dangerously, and a scar stretched down his neck below his clothes. He could tell by his appearance that he was Ironborn. Aerys stumbled to his feet.

"What are you doing here, watching me?" Aerys accused as he brushed off the reddish dirt from his clothes.

The man cocked an eyebrow askew. "Really, little prince, you didn't seem too upset when you were being lifted by the Kingsguard. And don't say anything of that, either, we all saw it. It's like you want all of Westeros to know you fucked Prince Martell."

"I – I don't know what you're saying," Aerys began to walk away.

The ironborn jogged up to reach him, clapping him on the shoulder. "I'm just offering words of advice, my Prince. You're surely going to need them."

"Who are you?" Aerys turned to him and looked at him straight in the eyes. They were roughly similar height, the other man may have had an inch or two on him, but Aerys was lithe and slim, where this man was broad and domineering.

"I am Varon Greyjoy, Captain of the Iron Fleet," He did a mocking bow. "And I have advice for you."

"I don't want to hear it, Greyjoy," Aerys snarled in response. "Fools and rapers are all that come from the Iron Islands these days." He began to stalk back towards the castle, but the man's hand clasped his shoulder tightly in an iron-like grip.

"You're going to hear it because you need to hear it," Varon Greyjoy said. "You must be careful, little prince, for everyone knows you are easy to seduce. Every minor lord wouldn't bother with bedding you once for a sum of golden dragons, if they thought it would help them get farther on in life. And you are too thick to realize that they're doing it."

"Stop," Aerys warned.

"Fine," The Greyjoy bit his lip as he walked past Aerys. "But don't come running to me when there's a knife in your belly."

**_. . ._**

**_King's Landing_**

Naerys was stuck. Her mind raced as she sat in the Tower of the Hand, rummaging through his shelves quickly. The small council was assembling once more down in the council chambers, and it provided her with her clearest opportunity yet to get the book. She was tossing books onto the floor, making a real mess of the room. No one would suspect her, if they couldn't find her. She gasped when she saw a glimpse of a black book in the back of the shelf, but it was no use, just an old copy of some fishing tales.

She tossed that one the hardest of all, and it hit the ground with a heavy thud. Naerys tilted her head as she saw that it had loosened a floorboard when it had bounced, setting one just off the regular track. She pried it back, and she found it. The book she'd been looking for. _Viserra Targaryen _was simply written in elegant red calligraphy on the front.

Her stomach flipped when she heard loud footsteps ascending the stairs. With no time to hide, she got as close to the door that she could so that she could jet out as soon as possible, holding the book to her breasts. The door was pushed in, and a white cloak flashed.

Naerys bolted past him down the stairs, and Ser Snow flew behind her. Her dress whipped about as she took the stairs two, three at a time, racing past ancient portraits and photos. "Help!" She cried out to anyone that could hear her, but the courtyard was empty. She heard a grunt of frustration from above her, and the Kingsguard tumbled down a handful of stairs. It would provide her what little time she needed to get a head start.

Naerys dashed down the courtyard towards the Red Keep, her feet flying as fast as she could. Her shoes tore and broke, sending her careening to the ground. Her nose hit the ground hard, and instantly crimson shots of blood hit the stones near them. She tugged off her shoes impatiently, seeing Robin Snow getting up from the bottom of the Tower. His eyes locked with her for a moment before he began to give chase to her again. She whimpered as she chucked the shoes, going barefoot into the Red Keep.

Naerys slid past maids and guards, her hair flying like a banner behind her. She heard yells and cries behind her as Robin Snow slammed into the very people that Naerys had managed to slip past. She needed to get somewhere she could hide…where he couldn't get her. She took an abrupt right and began to ascend the stairs that would lead to her own chambers. She could lock the door, bolt it even, and call for aid out the window, yes, it could work.

She nearly made it to the last step when she fell to the ground for a second time. She trembled as she hit the ground, the hard stones bruising her arms and chest. She looked up and saw that Ser Snow had put his boot on the edge of her dress, ripping it in the process.

"Nice try, princess," He snarled, blood dripping from his face just as much as hers. "Give it here and I won't let Viserys knew you were after it."

"No," Naerys replied bravely, inching up the stairs quietly. Robin took two big steps towards her and grasped her by the chin. "Help!" Naerys gasped as she was lifted off her feet, her legs kicking at him, but he was far bigger than her and she could do little to help.

"What's going on?" A voice said sharply from behind Naerys. "Leave her alone, ser!" She heard a sword being unsheathed. Snow cursed and let her fall to the ground like a rag doll, her knees instantly starting to bleed as well.

She looked up and saw two lords, and she couldn't have been any happier to see either of them. On the way from their homelands to Summerhall, many stopped through King's Landing. The black-haired man who had drawn his sword was Lord Lannister, and the tawny haired one beside him was Lord Reyne, both staring at Robin Snow with their mouths tight with anger.

Ser Snow spat at the ground where they both were and descended the stairs quickly. Surely, he was going to Viserys, but Naerys didn't care. "My saviors," She praised softly as they each took her by the arm and got her to her feet.

"Let's get you cleaned up, princess," The deep voice of Leonidas Lannister said, both of them gently escorting her back to her rooms.

She burned with curiosity as they cleaned her wounds. Lannister was gently applying salve to her knees, while Lord Reyne attempted to plug her nose where it had been gushing blood. "Thank you," Naerys whispered. "Give me a moment, please, my lords? Just a minute, I need to read this."

"As you wish," Lord Reyne said, and the both of them went out into the hall.

She peeled open the book and looked at the first page. Scribbles, presumably of letters when Viserra was a child. She followed Lord Velaryon's advice and turned to the back of the book. Two pages were ripped out, but the last page was there. That was all she needed.

_To my beloved Viserra,_

_ I hope you are doing well and that this letter finds you in good health. I cannot wait to make my return to you. It has been far too long. I miss your comforting arms, your gentle laughter, but most of all that prickly spirit. I have never once gone a day without thinking of Highgarden and those nights that followed. I am sure you have done the same. I will return as soon as you ascend the throne and we can be together. Forever. I think even Zaira misses you._

_ Love,_

_ Rhaegel_

**_A/N: Thank you all for all of your submissions! When I asked, it came! I do have a few more open spots if anyone does want something, but I have been pleased with what I've gotten. We're getting into the thick of it now! I hope you all enjoyed and drop a review if possible :) thanks!_**


	6. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 5 – Prelude to War?_**

**_The Great Council (SYOC)_**

Summerhall

. . .

It was apparent that it was lucky that the Council was to take place outdoors. Banners flapped all over in the wind, outstanding yellows, oranges, blues, reds, all sorts of colors. The first round was just a formality, however.

Bastards of Valarr, his siblings, and distant relations had also tried to submit their claims. The first round was simply trying to get the chaff separated from the true contenders. As if to highlight this, the maesters of the Citadel had a high platform on which the four would be seated. To each side of them were a gaggle of maesters, who would count the little slips handed to each of the lords and ladies.

"Where is Naerys?" Shaena whispered to Aerys as they sat atop the dais. She was dressed in a deep scarlet dress; her lips colored the same. Her hair was cascading loosely over her shoulders. She was leaning back in her chair, craning her neck to get a look at some of the lords' papers while they were filling them out at the maesters' tables. _Shaena. Viserys. Viserys. Aerys. Shaena. Viserys. Viserys. Rhaegel. Shaena. _

Aerys was far less interested in the filling out of the little slips than Shaena. He was dressed in a loose doublet and had the sigil of House Targaryen fastened at his neck. He wore a dark blue, different than their house. "I'm not sure, sister. Lord Lannister said she was to be coming down at the same time as them, yet she never appeared."

"Her and half a dozen other lords," Shaena complained. They had sent out prior notice everywhere, and she thought it was unreasonable some hadn't shown up.

Every so often a lord or lady would announce their vote to the crowd and go over and make some sort of demonstration before their chosen candidate. "Queen Shaena!" One of Lord Stark's bannermen boomed and laid their sword down below her.

She had the decency to blush and feign ignorance. "Thank you, Lord Umber."

It went on like that for hours. Rhaegel was in a regal gold, with black outlines. His head was carried aloft, looking…king-like. "I haven't seen you in years," Viserys commented, bored.

"No one has," Rhaegel snapped in response, having little patience for the young prince.

"Not since you ran off," Viserys replied, yawning and stretching back in his chair. He wore a dark green, and it was soon apparent why.

"King Viserys!" A Tyrell boy cried, staking his sword in the ground by his feet. Viserys gave him an approving nod and a throng of supporters began to chant, "Viserys". That lasted until the next man that wanted a bit of limelight shouted for Aerys, and it kept doing that for a while.

"I had my reasons," Rhaegel drank from a goblet of wine that had been set in front of him by one of the maesters. "No doubt you did too when you hid all those years ago. What was it…?"

Viserys visibly tensed. Aerys and Shaena had been too young to remember, and he no doubt didn't want Rhaegel to remember it. "I never hid. I served my father before I served King Valarr in King's Landing."

"That's not how I remember it," Rhaegel drank another swig from his goblet. "I doubt that's how Lady Frey remembers it either."

The air turned to ice as soon as he said it. Shaena glanced over and saw the look in Viserys' eyes. It was one of anger, of pure hate as he stared holes into Rhaegel. "Great," She rolled her eyes as she looked back at the table. _Rhaegel. Aerys. Shaena. Aerys. Viserys. Viserys. Rhaegel. Viserys._

A girl with bright blonde hair turned to Shaena, along with one with fiery red hair. Girls from her childhood. Lady Lannister and Lady Tully each gave her a smile and a nod. "Queen Shaena," Madeleine Lannister winked up at her.

Shaena gave her a nod but tried to listen in on the conversation between the two elder men that were sitting there.

"She never loved you," Rhaegel said sternly to Viserys, his violet eyes cold and harsh. "She never did and never would. You don't see it and have never. She wanted someone that she could love and hold dear. You were never there. You saw her as an object."

Viserys knew how to poke at the Mad Dragon, however. He smiled sweetly at Rhaegel, running a hand through his hair. "If you're so confident of that, my prince, then why…then why did she bed me in August?" He smirked. Shaena knew it wasn't true, but she had no reason to jump into the conversation at this point in the game. There was no point in it.

Just like that, Rhaegel was on him. He leapt out of his chair, and the two of them fell off the dais together. Blows rained on each other until members of the Kingsguard could haul them apart. Aerys and Shaena exchanged a look between them while the two men were brought back onto the stage. Viserys had clearly gotten the worse of it, with blood pouring from his nose and onto his clothing. A bruise had discolored Rhaegel's cheek, but besides that it looked like there was no harm.

"As if they were children," Aerys scoffed from beside her, and Shaena went to lengths to hide the smile that was forming upon her lips.

It took another hour once the lords were done for the maesters to count the slips and the percentages. They simply needed the support of one out of every twenty lords assembled, or just 5%, of the little slips returned.

One of the younger maesters stood up and looked out upon the crowd. "My lords and ladies, we have just four Targaryens which move to the next round, which takes place in two days' time."

There was palpable excitement on the dais, all four of them leaning forward to hear the results. "The other contestants together garnered 9% of the lords assembled. 2% were left blank, which means we have 89% left to give out." The maester said as he read from a script prepared by the Citadel.

Shaena reached for Aerys' hand, and they held onto each other like that while they waited for the first-round results. "In fourth place," They both tensed, their shoulders straightening for it. "Prince Aerys with the support of 16% of the lords assembled."

Aerys sighed but gave a smile to the crowd and a wave. Shaena squeezed his hand under the dais and waited for the next one. _That's a good sign, _she thought to herself. _Even if I do feel bad for my poor brother. _

"In third place," The maester continued. "Is Prince Rhaegel with support from 19% of the lords assembled."

Shaena could practically bounce with excitement. If she was close or ahead of Prince Viserys, it would be pretty much over. She smiled at the crowd, confident.

"In second place," The maester said. "Is Princess Shaena with support of 23% of the lords assembled. And in first is Prince Viserys with support of 31% of the lords assembled. Good day." The maester stepped off the dais and left.

_Shit, _Shaena thought to herself. She gave a brief smile and a wave as she headed off the stage. _That wasn't the result I was anticipating. _She noticed someone speaking to Viserys, and his jubilant expression was changed to something darker, angrier.

"…the others can't know," She heard him snarl at the squire who had brought him the news.

Know what? Shaena thought.

. . .

**_King's Landing_**

Naerys stood outside the small council chambers. Gold glinted all around her, her eyes glancing at the man's face. She waited for the words that she was listening for. Her nose still ached dully, but she hadn't raised a fuss. She had made Lords Reyne and Lannister go to Summerhall for the Great Council. She would be fine in King's Landing, she insisted. She just had a few other matters to attend to.

"What if Viserys loses?" The noise came through the door.

"We won't give back King's Landing," Robin Snow's voice was nasally and arrogant. "Viserys wants the throne, given to him or not."

Naerys made eye contact with one of the sers. She gave a nod. "Go."

The gold cloaks swarmed into the chamber, breaking the lock on the door. Forty of them, Naerys had made sure that they had at least that number. Their leader, Ser Oakheart, a balding man, had his sword at Robin Snow's throat.

"What is the meaning of this?" One of the old men at the council table tittered. "Ser Oakheart, I never would've thought you…"

"Who is your leader?" Ser Snow demanded; his voice as cold as ice. "I will send word to the King Regent right away of your transgressions."

Naerys swept into the room, curtly nodding to Ser Oakheart. He lowered his sword. "I am. And you are all under arrest for high treason."

Oakheart turned from Snow for just a second too long, and the Kingsguard's sword was out before he could do anything. He slashed the gold cloak through the abdomen and ran for a window. A gaggle of city guardsmen followed, attempting to lay chase. Naerys knew that they didn't stand a chance and turned to the rest of the councilmen in the room.

"You are all given the pleasure to be confined to your chambers while I sort this business out. If you attempt to leave your lodgings, I will give the orders to the gold cloaks to escort you to the dungeons." She watched as some of the gold cloaks patched up Oakheart, who was feebly trying to bat them away from his wound.

Naerys led the attachment back towards the throne room. She looked from side to side, her pale white dress fluttering behind her as she began to ascend the steps. No blades would prick her, scar her, or maim her in any way. To the lords that hadn't gone to Summerhall who were watching, they studied her.

They saw her take a seat upon the Iron Throne, a regal gaze of defiance in her eyes. When one man got to his knee, Naerys quickly straightened up. "My lord, there is no reason for that," Naerys said. "I am simply acting as a proper Queen Regent. The city is under my control until the council has finished. At that time, I will hand the city to whoever the Great Council deems our next King or Queen."

_Please, _she thought, _Shaena, do this for me. _"My princess, I advise you to close the gates of the city," One of the landed knights said from where he stood. "Viserys will come back, and Robin Snow with him."

"Let him come," Naerys said, looking out ahead at them. "Bring an army if he likes. But it will be seen by the entire country as an usurping of the throne."

"What if he wins?" Another asked.

"Then I will hand it over to him," Naerys said curtly, glancing out the window. "Fetch me a quill and parchment. I need to send word to Summerhall."

The letter was written. To Shaena, to Rhaegel, to Aerys, it was addressed. Their sister Naerys ruled in King's Landing, ousting Robin Snow and his goons. She would hand the city to whichever of them would win the Great Council. The squire ran up the stairs to attach the letter to a raven, and barely had time to register the sword that was sticking through his gut and the smiling face of Robin Snow. He fastened his own letter to the raven and let it take off. Then, he hopped out the window and disappeared for a time.

**_A/N: More characters are being introduced, and even more will in the next chapter. It's been a week since I've updated and I wanted to get something out there. I've had the first part done for a while, but the second part was stumping me. I had a general idea of what I wanted, but no idea what to write. I think it worked out mostly, with a bit of some bumpiness still in there. Let me know what you think and what you want to see in the future. _**


	7. Chapter 6

**_Chapter 6 – Surprise_**

**_The Great Council (SYOC)_**

_Aerys_

Prince Aerys took a step out into the early morning light. He took in a deep breath, feeling the dusty air entering his nose. Many, particularly lords from the Riverlands and North, detested it. He did not. It filled him with a sense of purpose – with happiness.

"My Prince, it is early," His knight said. Athen Tully stepped behind him, his big hand resting on the prince's shoulder.

"We must get to work early," Aerys joked lightly, stretching. "For my competitors are already at it."

It was true – they could see Shaena deep in conversation with some Northern lords, Rhaegel was riding with those of the Dornish Marches, and Viserys was holding a breakfast with some Reach lords.

"What is our first appointment?" Aerys asked the ser.

"You are going to hold a meeting with Lady Tully and Lord Arryn in the gardens," Athen replied, pointing him towards where a set of benches were sitting in the gorgeous garden.

Flowers of all sorts were blooming – as if the had come from all over the world. Essos, Westeros, and beyond. The bright reds and the coal black flowers seemed to be a purposeful ploy to highlight Targaryen power, but there were other, lighter colors at work too. Gorgeous yellows and oranges, purples and blues. Three banners were hanging there – the falcon of Arryn, the trout of Tully, and the dragon of his own house.

"Why are you not the Lord Tully?" He glanced over at Athen. "Did your father pass after you had become on the Kingsguard?" Aerys was not the best at conversation, particularly not when it came to other lords and ladies.

"My sister was always suited better for it," Athen shrugged. "I preferred to fight with swords, she preferred to fight in the council chambers. So here we are," A smile filled his features as they walked over to the temporary meeting site.

The first they saw was the young Lord Arryn. He was not quite in charge in the Vale yet, his father still reigned, but he was representing his house here. He had an austere look to him – all lines and bone cut hard, as though the gods had fashioned him with the most precise knife they could find. He had a few scars above one of his eyes and had auburn hair – a few shades darker than those of his companion, Athen Tully.

Lady Tully was standing beside Lord Arryn, both of them nodding their heads to him in a semi-bow. She looked like the rolling rivers of the Riverlands themselves – red hair with light curves. She was beautiful, but not in a sort of way that would be seen as so much so by any man. Her green-blue eyes caught Athen's first before she turned to her Prince.

"Sit, sit," Aerys said, always embarrassed when people bowed to him. He found it strange, especially after his time in Dorne. Both the lord and lady took their seats on the stone benches behind them.

Aerys let Athen stand behind him as he took his own seat in a chair. "I know you both have a hard decision to make." Aerys began. "Your leadership will show the Riverlands and Vale respectively which candidate to back. I would like to ask for your support."

He had gone over it with Athen many times during the night, how to say it, what to do. He had used it as an excuse to hear that dark, soft voice talk in the night. Aerys had asked him to help him with his hands, only to feel the Riverman's arms slip around him to show him what to do. He swore that he could feel the man's heart begin to race a bit. But he was a Kingsguard, not to sire any children. _But he wouldn't with you…_a voice in his head said.

Ayla Tully could see that the Prince had gotten lost in thought. "What could you promise the Riverlands if we declared our support behind you, my prince?" She asked.

Aerys blabbered into council positions and how the Riverlands was critically important to the Westerosi economy and ended up making an altogether fool of himself. He could tell by the look the Tully shared with Lord Arryn that it was unlikely that either would support him much.

"And what would you do about the mountain clans in the Vale?" The man's voice was crisp and clear, those eyes staring into Aerys' skull. He was giving him one more shot.

"Uh…" Aerys began ungracefully, feeling the knight step closer behind him and put his hand on his shoulder. "We would need to keep watch on them of course. You could appoint someone, one of the lords of the Vale, who could report to me monthly on any needs that the Vale would have in regard to the mountain clans of the region."

Lord Arryn seemed pleasantly surprised, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. "That – that would be wonderful, my prince."

They drank a bit of wine and talked. It became clear to Aerys that Lord Arryn hated to be home. He was everywhere – on trips to Oldtown, to King's Landing, Dragonstone, now Summerhall. He wondered what his wife was like. Lady Tully, on the other hand, was more gregarious, talking with her brother and with Aerys merrily during the morning.

"Ah! Is that the time," Ayla said, glancing up at the sky. "I have a meeting with Princess Shaena, I do apologize." She hurried away. Lord Arryn excused himself shortly thereafter and left him and Athen sitting alone.

"I did horribly," Aerys mumbled miserably as they traipsed back towards the manse. "They both hated me."

"You did fine," A touch of amusement was in the Kingsguard's voice, following the prince into the chambers.

"Out," Aerys told the servants politely. "Take a break or something." They filed out obediently and quickly, leaving the two of them inside, alone. Aerys flopped onto the bed, feeling content to wallow in his misery. "Cancel the appointment with Lord Tyrell. I can't stand to lose another region today."

"What about tonight's sunset meeting with the Dornish?" Athen asked.

"Keep it, for now," Aerys said, at least they already knew him.

"You did fine, my prince," Athen said, changing the subject.

"Did not," Aerys protested lightly.

He felt the bed move and he knew that the ser had taken a seat beside him. Aerys sighed and buried his head in the pillow, feeling like a failure. His father was right, he couldn't be King. It was the whole reason why he had put Viserra above him in the first place. He wasn't cut out for court intrigue, war, or politics. It just wasn't him.

Aerys shivered when Athen slowly got atop him, wrapping his arms around him. It was just as he'd pictured… "My prince," The ser's voice whispered against his ear.

"Yes," Aerys murmured back.

He gasped as he felt warm lips kissing the side of his neck, those long fingers playing with the cords of his shirt and undoing them. Aerys found himself sinking into the ser, allowing him to be in control. Before long, the two were bare and Aerys was looking up at him with an expression of desire and want. "Athen, please," Aerys mewled softly. "I want you."

The Kingsguard smiled and nodded, bending down towards the bed. They had just begun when the door swung open.

. . .

_Shaena_

"He did what?" Shaena demanded as she hurried down the pathway. _No, Aerys, _she thought, _why couldn't you have saved it for after Summerhall? _She knew Aerys' tendencies, he had told her years ago in King's Landing. It was her who suggested to her father that Aerys go to Dorne as a sort of ambassador, and it had worked out for him.

"He was found in a compromising position with one of the members of the Kingsguard by Lord Tyrell," Benjen Stark told her as they hurried down the hall together.

She had found it hard to decide what to do – both Benjen and his younger brother Torrhen were courting her, as well as a few Baratheon brothers as well. Choosing one would alienate the rest, so she found it best to put off the conversation until later.

"Let me through," Shaena snapped at the crowd of people around the manse where Aerys normally stayed. She could see maesters already in the room, with septons as well. Luckily, both men were dressed and sitting on the bed.

"Aerys," Shaena crushed him to her in a hug as soon as she found him. "What did you do?" She whispered, looking at him. "Why?"

Viserys was strolling into the room behind her, wearing his green attire. He sat up on one of the desks and glanced at Aerys with dislike. "Should send you off to the Citadel. Or maybe to a pillow house in Lys, since that seems to be more your style,"

"You," Shaena rounded on him, a finger shaking as she faced him. "This was your doing."

"Me?" Viserys asked with incredulity, making sure lords were watching him as he responded. "It is not me that was in bed with a Kingsguard. No, that was your brother, dear princess."

"What will happen to the ser?" The maester asked Viserys, whow as technically in command of the Kingsguard at the time.

"Nothing," Viserys said crisply, getting to his feet. "He has not sired a child, and has not broken his vows. As far as I am concerned, he will be welcomed back onto the Kingsguard. Seems you can ask Aerys how good he is with a sword."

Aerys' cheeks flushed dark red and Shaena was beginning to get angry as well. A slender arm slid around hers and began to take her from the room, tugging her down the hall and away from the madness. "What the hell?" Shaena asked the mystery man.

"We cannot be seen talking by anyone else," The man had dark raven-like hair. "Especially not Prince Viserys."

"Who are you?" Shaena demanded.

"Varon Greyjoy, at your service, my lady," He bent his head in a slight bow. "I believe that Prince Viserys meant for this to happen."

"No shit," Shaena fumed, putting her hand in her hair as she thought. It would surely sink his chances. People had only spread rumors what he was doing with Maron in Dorne, not actually seen them and proved them for themselves. If Aerys had any sense of decency at all, he would drop out now, rather than face the embarrassment that was heading for him in the next round.

"No, I am serious," Varon replied, having a wolf-like smile on his face. "The ser was already known to be homosexual, and Viserys purposefully matched him up with Aerys. Then, Lord Tyrell catches them, who also happens to be the greatest supporter of Viserys. It has his name written all over it."

Shaena took a seat with a heavy sigh. "So?" She said helplessly. "It doesn't matter. Whether Viserys orchestrated it or not, what is done is done. We have no hope now. The lords that he's amassed – Dornish, Stormlanders – will not go to me."

"Do not be so sure," Varon took a seat beside her. "And besides, you saw the way he got rid of Aerys. He played politics on him and outmaneuvered him. You've just got to do the same to him, my princess."

"How?" Shaena demanded, putting her hands on her hips. "I am not a lady; I hardly can be tolerated at court. Viserys is the master, there's none better. Besides, why are you even helping me, you could be a spy as well." She accused.

Varon smiled a little and sat beside her. "I am not asking for your hand, my princess, if that's what you're asking. No, I took a little liking to your brother as well. If you win, he can be sent to the Iron Islands. We'll toughen him up a bit."

Shaena was surprised, looking at him. "Okay…" She said slowly. "Where do we go from here?"

"It starts there," Varon nodded at a door in front of them.

_Lady Aurora Frey._

. . .

_Viserys_

The room was dark and quiet when Viserys came back. He was feeling accomplished – he had just destroyed perhaps his greatest opponent. No one would vote for the mad Rhaegel or the hotheaded Shaena. Aerys was his only opponent the whole time. And now he had destroyed him, with one stroke.

"My prince?" A voice came from the door.

"Ah, Lord Tyrell," Viserys turned to him. "Thank you for your partaking in our plan. It was quite the master stroke."

Elias gave a brief nod, glancing at the Prince. "The prince will have no harm done to him, will he?"

_Always the fucking rose, _Viserys thought scornfully, _if it were his rule, Aerys' head would be on a pike by now. _"No," Viserys forced the word out of his mouth as he poured a glass of wine for himself and a second to be left waiting. "If he wishes to retire to Dorne, that will be his call."

Elias gave a brief nod. "Enjoy your dinner, my prince," The Tyrell was gone like that, heading down the hall.

He drank his wine as he waited for his visitor. It was the most important one of the day – and Viserys believed the easiest as well. Lady Mairin Baratheon had been betrothed to him when they were about fifteen. His father had broken it when Rhaegel was sent to Myr, hoping to marry him to Viserra. Wounds had been opened between House Targaryen and House Baratheon, but he hoped that he could seal the deal tonight.

Thoughts drowned him just as much as the wine. Lady Baratheon was late. He didn't want Lady Baratheon. She was beautiful enough, particularly for a Westerosi. She was no Viserra, and certainly no Naerys. His thoughts had turned to her since her sister had died. If he won…if he didn't have to offer this marriage pact to Mairin, she could be his. Sure, he would make a few lions mad in the West, but offering them Shaena should be enough, or perhaps their eldest child would soothe the tensions. Shaena's personality was too abrasive, too angry, for Viserys to even think about wedding and bedding her. But Naerys…

The door opened then, and Lady Baratheon gave a nod to the maid that had led her there. She had the dark hair of her house, short, like Naerys, her skin nearly as pale as hers as well. She wore a golden dress with black on the edges, the colors of her house.

"Prince Viserys," She said courteously, taking a seat in the open chair.

"Lady Mairin," He replied, giving her a smile.

She looked at him for a good few seconds while she sipped on her wine. _Yes, _Viserys thought with victory in his mind, _remember, little lady. Remember your feelings of yesteryear. It will not take long. _

"I have a proposition," Viserys set his goblet down on the table and put his elbows on it, facing her. His nose was inches away from hers, his violet eyes baring into hers. He noticed her hands shaking a little, the wine sloshing at the bottom of her glass.

_She knows. _Viserys realized. _And she wants it, craves it. House Baratheon will fall in line, just like the rest. _

"I would be honored if you would agree to a marriage pact, Lady Baratheon," The words escaped his mouth before he could force them back. _Who cares, _Viserys thought. _I could sire a few bastards of Naerys if I wished. Toss Mairin aside if things go south. _"Between you and I. Like it used to be."

Mairin was good at hiding her feelings, almost too good. He expected her to smile and gush about how she'd been waiting for that day. But she just nodded. "I will speak with my father, but I should have no reason to believe he would say no, my prince."

Prince Viserys nodded. "It is done." He smiled warmly at her. "It shall take place the instant we get back in King's Landing, at the Sept of Baelor."

_King's Landing, _he thought, the idea filling him with dread. _Robin Snow is on his way here, likely pursued by dozens of gold cloaks. But it was a game, just a game between him and Naerys. No one else had to know. _"Thank you, my prince," With that, she was gone as well. Off to tell her pigheaded father, who would fall for the trap easily. Any house would want a potential queen, and with it looking as though Viserys was going to win, it would be easy.

"My lord, there's news," A voice came from outside the door within moments, his squire knocking quickly as he said it.

"Come in," He demanded, opening the door.

"The maesters," He was out of breath. "The maesters have determined that Viserra's death was no accident. That it was done on purpose."

Viserys swore again, shoving the door on him.

"That's not all!" He cried through the door to his prince. "Princess Shaena is meeting with Lady Frey."

Viserys was glad no one was in the room at that moment, his face turning from angry to murderous in a matter of moments. He kicked the door hard, three times before he let himself settle down. _She doesn't know. Not yet. And Aurora won't tell her. She's too scared._

**_A/N: I hope you all liked the chapter! I wanted to get one out today on Saturday :D I also wanted to tell you about a wonderful new story that was just posted, another SYOC for ASOIAF. I read it the other day and I thought it was just marvelous. The writing was, honestly, a bit better than my own. It's called Ruby and Onyx (SYOC) by Son of Arryn. You can submit entire houses full of characters, and the Targaryens are very intriguing I am posting the link below so you can check it out. Let me know what you thought of the chapter in a review! _**

**_ s/13538682/1/Ruby-and-Onyx-SYOC_**


	8. Chapter 7

**_The Great Council (SYOC)_**

**_Chapter 7: Winnowing_**

It was pouring rain outdoors, the first rain that Summerhall had seen in many months. Lords and ladies were crammed into every available space that could be found inside the castle for the next round. Shoulder-to-shoulder they sat in neat rows, three Targaryens sitting up on the dais waiting for the fourth to arrive. They didn't know what trick Shaena was about to pull, but they all knew something was up.

She emerged from the back of the room, wearing a dark blue dress with a dragon necklace around her neck. She was linked arm in arm with another lady, a brown-haired beauty, Aurora Frey. Lords watched as the two walked up to the dais. The Lady Frey was shaking the closer they got to the dais, but Shaena held firm.

"You're safe with me," Shaena told her firmly, before turning to the crowd assembled.

Aerys sat up straighter in his seat, craning his neck to see what was going on. Viserys was pale as a ghost, and Rhaegel was the only one relaxed in his seat, looking as though he couldn't care what was going on. _What is she doing, _Aerys thought. It was likely to be his defeat today, he knew it, but he had to stay.

"My lords and ladies," Shaena's voice was powerful, loud enough to quiet the entire room. "What I am about to tell you will not be what you want to hear. It is not what I wanted to hear when I spoke with Lady Frey the other day. But it cannot go ignored." She let the lady take a seat in the first row alongside her liege lady, Ayla Tully.

The red-haired girl took the pale Frey's hand into her own, glancing at her worriedly. The Frey didn't speak, just staring ahead at Shaena as she made her address.

"Years ago, on Dragonstone," Her voice carried like that of a military commander, echoing through the hall. "Lady Aurora Frey came to visit then-Crown Princess Viserra Targaryen. They drank and japed, shared wine and mead at the Great Hall. It wasn't often that a house like Frey could do such a thing, but with Viserra it was commonplace. I'm sure you all know that."

"But that night, Aurora Frey was raped by a man inside the castle walls. She has identified him as Prince Viserys Targaryen, who had drunk and shared the wine with my sister," Shaena turned to Viserys sitting up on the dais.

There was muttering in the crowd, Rivermen glancing at each other especially. Viserys looked as though he was trying to figure out what his reaction should be, and he raised an eyebrow at Shaena. "Princess Shaena, I do not share your love of theatrics. This argument is baseless and is impossible to prove."

"Ah," Shaena clucked, turning back to the crowd. "Princess Viserra gave Lady Frey moon tea for the next couple of days, while she stayed on the island. It just so happens that Princess Viserra died right after my father, with no signs of sickness or ailment. In fact, the maester said that it appeared to be purposeful. I brand you, Prince Viserys, with kinslaying and rape." She pointed her finger at him. "And unable to reign over this realm."

Shaena took her seat on the other side of Aerys, who was dumbfounded. He wasn't sure if it was an elaborate plan to help Aerys limp it to the next round, or if it was a genuine truth. She had reached on the grounds of kinslaying, that was sure, Aerys thought, but what was he to say about it?

The maesters were trying to maintain calm among the group, which had begun to argue and discuss amongst themselves. The Reach lords were unwilling to believe it, the firmest backers of Prince Viserys. Lord Baratheon, who had recently betrothed his daughter to Viserys, was shouting at Shaena from the back of the room about respect and honor. To her credit, she didn't flinch.

On the opposite end, the Riverlords were angry. Lord Mallister was in the face of Lord Rowan, Lady Tully arguing with a Florent, Lord Tyrell pointing his finger at Lord Blackwood. Amidst it all, Lady Frey looked up at Shaena with a wordless 'thank you' in her eyes. Shaena gave her a slow nod of her head.

It took nearly a half hour for the maesters to end all of the fires that had started around the room. They made each one go one at a time to fill out their little slips, rather than in small groups as they had done in the previous round. At least no fighting had ensued that Shaena could see, no bloody noses, black eyes, or swords drawn. That was rare for Westeros, she thought.

They sat there for even longer than before, each one growing with anticipation the closer they got to the end of the line. The maesters promptly began to count the slips, and did the math after that to see who would be eliminated. Shaena sat up on the edge of her seat when the Grand Maester stood in front of the hall.

"In fourth place…" He read off the sheet of paper. "Prince Aerys Targaryen with support of eleven percent of the lords assembled."

They could hear scoffs from the Dornish lords that had come to the council. Aerys gave his supporters a brief nod. Shaena squeezed his hand lightly, knowing that he hadn't entirely wanted the crown, but it was still hard for him.

"In third place…" The Grand Maester continued. "Prince Rhaegel with support of twenty-three percent of the lords assembled."

Polite clapping continued for Rhaegel, who gave a brief smile and folded his hands on the table in front of him. His collection of Myrmen and sellswords who had accompanied him were hooting in a side room at the hearing of it, which a lord assuredly passed through the window.

"In second place…" The Grand Maester said. "Princess Shaena with support of twenty-nine percent of the lords assembled."

Shaena thought that it wasn't perfect, but it wasn't entirely awful either. Hopefully, most of Aerys' lords would join with her, and she could take the lead in the next round. She got up out of her seat and walked to join with Lord Stark, who had become somewhat of a near-certainty to become her betrothed. Viserys marrying into House Baratheon sealed it.

"Your Grace," He said as they walked. "I'm not sure that your plan was as masterful as your advisers may have thought," He was clearly concerned, grabbing a hold of her elbow.

"What do you mean?" Shaena replied curtly.

"It hasn't been long since Westeros got rid of the first night." He reminded her. "Many lords likely weren't swayed by the allegation. It likely only enraged the Reachmen, who are now more firmly entrenched behind Viserys than ever."

Shaena shrugged her shoulders. "It's coming down to war either way," She ran her hand through her silvery hair. "We all know it. It's just who starts it is the question."

. . .

_Aerys' manse_

"Pack," One of the Dornish lords had told him, their eyes glittering dangerously after the round had finished. "We leave for Sunspear at dawn."

Aerys had shivered, wondering what Maron would say. _Gods, what if he finds out about Athen? That it derailed my chances…_ He'd be irate, Aerys knew. Perhaps worse, even. The Dornish weren't going to stay and vote for anybody. He'd asked if they would, to try and support his sister Shaena. They had simply said that Maron had told them only to vote for Aerys, and to leave if he lost.

It was late at night, and Aerys had finally shoved the last of his clothes into a satchel when he heard a knock on the door. Aerys moved to get it, as Athen had rejoined the rest of the Kingsguard with Viserys, after he had lost.

"Not you," Aerys groaned as he saw the Ironborn prince, Varon standing in the doorway.

"I told you," The man replied, looking at Aerys. "I told you what would happen."

"It wasn't like that," Aerys replied stiffly, beginning to close the door. "He truly enjoyed my company."

"I'm sure," Varon yawned, stopping Aerys with his boot. "Is that why he's moved on so fast? I'm sure Viserys gave him a fat stack of gold for that little stunt."

"What do you mean?" Aerys frowned at the door, resting his cheek against it.

"Everyone knows Shaena and Rhaegel stand no chance against Viserys." Varon snorted. "Shaena's a girl, and even if she might be the best choice, those who want a man will never go for her. Rhaegel's insane, even if he puts up a good front to try and deflect from that. You were the only chance we had of beating him. Viserys knew it. And he knew how to take you down too. You were just stupid enough to take the bait."

"I'm not stupid," Aerys protested weakly, holding the golden knob in one of his hands.

"Oh really?" Varon challenged. "If I went in there and tried to have my way with you, I guarantee you that you'd let me, no matter what you thought."

"You're wrong," Aerys said, kicking the man's boot from the door and shoving it closed. He bolted it for good measure.

He laid awake that night, unable to sleep. The one time that he did manage to drift off a bit, he had a dream that Maron was so angry with him he set him loose into the open ocean, heading for the Basilisk Isles. That kept him up for the rest of the night. _Why couldn't he stay with a man like Athen? _Aerys thought. He was sweet, had a good face and a nice body, and talented as well…but he had to go back to Dorne. If he stayed away for a while, he knew he might just _disappear. _

The next morning the Dornish lords came to get him. He was already awake, dressed in a black doublet and a dragon fastening on the neck. It wasn't long before someone was riding beside him out of the Marches.

The lady had long black hair and curls, and would've been deemed beautiful by any other man save Aerys. "My prince," Princess Arecel Martell said to him. "You should be prepared to go back to Sunspear. It suits you much better than the Iron Throne."

"I'm sure," Aerys bit back a smarter retort. Arecel had never taken to him much, having been trying to introduce Maron to other lords and ladies alike to try and sway him from his course with Aerys. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You should," She replied. "Because it'll be the only thing you'll ever rule."

Aerys was prickled. He knew that a war was coming. Shaena was already working on alliances to build her up. Viserys was as well. Only himself and Rhaegel appeared to be without any place to begin. Well, Aerys had Dorne, but they would be useless alone. "My brother will want you to go back to King's Landing and claim a dragon," Arecel chimed in.

"I don't need a dragon," Aerys bristled at her suggestion. He couldn't outright fight back, as she had considerable sway among her subjects, and her brother to boot. He never had much luck with the Dornish, and his favor with Maron was dissolving rapidly. "A dragon is only good for war, and I am not going to plunge this realm into it."

"Grow some balls," Arecel taunted as she continued her way. "I'm lucky I have Maron as a brother instead of you. Gods, Shaena must be embarrassed."

Aerys' face grew red and she galloped off, throwing him a smirk over her shoulder. _I'm the blood of the dragon, _he thought, _you're some Dornish princess who thinks they know everything. I owe this place nothing. Maybe…_

**_A/N: As fun as this chapter was for me, I doubt it was as fun to read lol. Kind of filler, kind of substance. I have decided that this is going to be a series. I think this installment will have about 12-14 chapters, so be on the lookout for the next story (I will say in this one when it is posted). Please review and let me know what you think, it really keeps me going and let's me know who to use. I need love interests for Rhaegel specifically so if you would want to take time to do that. Close allies of the Targs would also be good, but I can mold some that I have into those as well. Thank you and have a good day._**


	9. Chapter 8

**_The Great Council (SYOC)_**

**_Chapter 8: Lions_**

It seemed as though the Westerosi lords had breathed a sign of relief once the Dornish had left. A feast was even prepared on a whim for the evening, something that was unheard of in the days leading up to the first and second rounds. The cooking staff at Summerhall prepared a lavish meal throughout the day, while the respective Targaryens met with different people.

Shaena Targaryen sat in a chair outside, looking out at the Red Mountains. An ally of hers stood behind her. "My lady, today is the day we seal the deal." Lady Tully said with a smile, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Rally the North and the West, and we shall be more powerful than ever."

Shaena sighed heavily. "I feel for you, Lady Tully," Shaena replied. "I know what Lord Stark wants, I have no clue what Lord Lannister desires, and yet you have stood by me this entire time and I cannot seem to find something for you. Maybe I can find you a husband after this. A good man, one that will take care of you."

"You are the kindest, Shaena," Ayla replied as she smoothed the princess' hair out. "But you don't have to. The Riverlands are happy to stand behind you regardless."

"I know," She sighed heavily as she rose to her feet, wearing a smooth black dress with red cuffs. "Am I to go meet the Starks?"

"It appears so, my Lady. Do you intend to give him what he wants?" Ayla was curious as they began to walk back indoors, slipping past the throngs of lesser lords and landed knights that crowded the place.

"I do," Shaena's jaw was set. "The Baratheons chose their way, now I choose mine."

Shaena walked with her to a door on the second floor, with the direwolf carved into the door. _House Stark of Winterfell, _it read. "My lord?" Shaena knocked on the door loud enough for any to hear.

A squire of Lord Stark opened the door and gave her a brief inclination of the head. He was small, with brown hair and just the beginnings of a beard. He looked very different than his lord, who was seated in a chair opposite a desk. Lord Brandon had dark black hair that went to his shoulders, a bit of stubble, and tall. He was handsome enough, Shaena thought, and strong. But it wasn't his physicality that she wanted, it was his men and lords.

"Lord Stark," Shaena took a seat. Brandon bowed to her, and then got back into his seat. _Always the honor, _Shaena thought. She glanced behind her, but Ayla was gone. _Fish are slippery. _

"Princess Shaena, it is an honor," Brandon replied. "I look forward to our hopeful alliance."

"As do I," Shaena said, putting her elbows on the desk. "As you know, my lord, you have been actively courting me for years now. But the matter of succession is of paramount importance to me. Should I become Queen, my child would need to inherit the Iron Throne." She didn't know if he was willing to give up Winterfell for her. "Regardless of who it's father is."

"I thought that might be an issue," Stark replied, pushing towards her a paper that he had written, signed by several lords of the North, including Bolton, Hornwood, Manderly, and Mormont. "Our eldest son shall be the Crown Prince of the Realm. Our second shall be the future Lord of Winterfell. Any more will fill in wherever necessary. If we have a son and a daughter, the daughter will accede to Winterfell." Brandon replied. "I have met this agreement with the various lords of the North. If you agree, then the matter is settled."

It was a bizarre fix, Shaena would admit. But she needed the North's men and its position. If she could rally the Westerlands and Riverlands, having the North would seal off one area from attack. She had no doubt it would come to war. And the Northerners were fiercer than any she had seen. She knew they also desired the few islands between the Vale and North. Should Lord Arryn side against her, she was prepared to hand the Sistermen to Winterfell.

"A very wise fix, my lord," Shaena signed her name alongside his.

Her thoughts were spinning as she inked her name. If she lost, they could not hold the wedding in King's Landing. To say it now would be to present a future threat. Dragonstone was far too small, and the Northerners would detest the idea. Riverrun was an idea, but far too close to potential warfare. She settled on Winterfell, with its secure position and the North would likely be delighted if the wedding was up there rather than down in the South.

"After this council, I believe we could adjust to whatever fallout has happened and go North for the wedding. If Winterfell agrees?" Shaena glanced up at him.

His grey eyes stared back at her. "We do."

"Then it's settled." She got to her feet and shook his hand. "Winterfell and Dragonstone." She gave him a smile. "I must go meet with Lord Lannister, my lord, but I will be seeing you soon."

Shaena's fingers tingled as she left the room. She had always known that she would marry for a political reason for years, but she honestly hadn't expected a man like Brandon Stark. He was big, and kind enough. No doubt he was very fertile as well. She would likely have to stay out of any war for a while, attempting to gain heirs in case…in case the worst would happen. She shook her head thoroughly, attempting to clear the thoughts rom her head as she met Lady Tully outside.

"Is it done?" Ayla asked.

"Done." Shaena replied, following her advisor down the hallway and down the set of stairs. The Lannisters were positioned near where Aerys' manse had been, now emptied since him and the Dornish had left. They had nearly the whole wing to themselves.

The door to the Lannister rooms was locked, but she noticed the door to the manse was open. A bit of annoyance pricked her. _That was my brother's room. _She thought. _They have no right. _As if sensing her irritation, Ayla squeezed her hand. "Remember what we're here for."

Once again, Ayla Tully remained outdoors as Shaena entered. "Lord Lannister?" She asked as she took a seat out near the small garden space. She watched as lords milled about outside, ladies helping set up decorations for the feast with joy.

"In here," The deep rumble came, and she saw him come out of the room behind her.

Unlike most Lannisters, Leonidas had black hair. She vaguely remembered the story of Lord Lannister siring a bastard off of a Baratheon girl, and his wife was unable to produce a son after having Madeleine, so Leonidas became it. She had remembered her father speaking about perhaps elevating the Lord of Lannisport, but the Casterly Rock faction had swiftly moved against that idea.

"My lady," He bowed to her and took a seat in a chair to her right.

"My lord, thank you for meeting me," Shaena faced him. "I know it is such a hectic time."

He chuckled and raked a hand through his dark hair. "Princess, am I allowed to speak frankly?"

"You are, my lord," Shaena was relieved. Any more beating around the bush from anyone and she was going to die of boredom.

"I have only one simple request." He told her, dressed in the elaborate fashion of the Westerlands. He looked her in the eye.

"Simple?" Shaena grinned at him. "I am glad it is simple."

"I request a marriage," Leonidas replied.

Her heart fell into her stomach. She had already given her hand to Lord Stark. If that was what Lord Lannister requested…she could not fulfill it. She would have to give up the men and gold that House Lannister could provide. With a heavy heart she began to speak, "I have already offered myself to Lord Stark."

"Not your hand, my lady," Leonidas interrupted her. "That of your sister, Naerys."

Her heart soared, but still she held doubts. _What would Naerys think of her, if she just offered her to him just like that? _But she ended up deciding for it, having heard that Lord Amos Reyne had been betrothed to Lady Alissa Redwyne that very morning, part of a brokering by Prince Viserys.

"I should see no reason to decline, my lord," Shaena replied. "If that is all you require, I shall make it happen."

A smile crossed his features, and it was obvious to Shaena that it was deeper than just politics and power. He genuinely liked her. Shaena gave him a smile in response and held out her hand. "We have a deal, my lord."

"We do," He answered, and for the first time since she'd arrived at Summerhall, she felt as though she had done some good.

. . .

The feast was lavishly prepared, with steamed turkey, pork, and even a spare bit of beef laying out on the tables. Arbor wine was sitting at nearly every table, with a few Lysene ones thrown in as well. Apples from Cider Hall were sitting in baskets as well, embroidered with the sigil of House Fossoway. It was truly a Westerosi feast, something that rarely happened. It was a once-in-a-generation event.

Prince Viserys, as the official coordinator of the feast, sat at the head table. The other claimants, Rhaegel and Shaena, were seated amongst the lords and ladies (perhaps to their benefit). Lords and ladies laughed and japed, and all had a merry time. Drinks flowed quickly and freely, and even Prince Rhaegel was said to have cracked a smile at one of the jokes told near him.

Near the end of the feast, Prince Viserys rose at the head of the room. "Good evening!" He boomed. "I would like to congratulate Lady Redwyne and Lord Reyne on the announcement of their upcoming marriage!"

The crowd clapped and cheered. However, a girl sitting at a table in the back didn't. Her golden hair bobbed as she got up from the table and disappeared into the forest. She didn't notice as a man followed her. Tears streamed down her face freely.

"I was an idiot," Madeleine Lannister said to herself, swiping at her eyes. "He played me for my whole life," She sat down on the ground, letting the dirt ruin her scarlet dress and not caring. Normally, she would not let herself be taken advantage of in the matters of the heart. She had learned carefully from her father to keep that guarded. She always thought before she acted, she left the brawn to her brother.

"My lady?" A voice came like a whisper from a few feet away.

She tensed as she looked up. Dressed in a handsome black doublet, with a gleaming sword at his belt, the man was fetching. He stood tall and confidently, just like Amos always did. His neck was strong and lithe, the skin unblemished. She turned pale as she saw the silvery hair, tied back in a loose ponytail, wisps of his hair floating near his temple.

"My prince, I…" Madeleine said as she swiftly got to her feet, batting dust away from her dress. "I apologize if I made a scene."

"You do not need to apologize to me," The man's voice was clear and direct. "I cannot judge you." Rhaegel leaned up against a tree opposite her and watched. "People do crazy things for love."

"Have you?" Madeleine whispered as she looked at him.

"I have," Rhaegel replied. "Would you like to come with me, my lady?"

Madeleine's head told her no, screamed no at her. _He was a murderer, burned half of the outskirts of King's Landing, he was insane. _But her heart argued. _His eyes…his smile, oh how she wished that he would smile more. _"I…I would, my prince."

Rhaegel offered his arm to her, and she took it. He led her down the rocky pathway away from Summerhall. She was silent as she carefully felt his doublet, and the muscle underneath. He was odd, that was for sure, Madeleine knew. But he was endearing in another way, so focused and clear that it made her forget about stupid Amos Reyne.

"Oh!" Madeleine yelped in alarm as she saw where he was heading.

The great dragon Zaira dozed under the stars, her purple scales glittering in the moonlight. Rhaegel edged her closer to her. "Want to go for a ride?" His eyes glittered with excitement at the thought.

She thought he looked like a child in that moment, not in a bad way, but in a way that made him appear more…human. Less like the person the lords of Westeros portrayed him as. "I…" She was still unsure, wondering what her brother would think, if any lords would take her after this. But the thought of a dragon ride…that was hard to pass up. "I would, my prince."

Rhaegel put his hand on the dragon's snout, waking her up. She seemed kind enough, nuzzling her great head into the prince's hand. Madeleine let out a little laugh as she watched her knock the prince over. Rhaegel tossed her a grin over his shoulder and her heart nearly stopped. _Oh, _she thought, _he's got me. _

Rhaegel vaulted his leg over the side of his dragon and slid onto her with ease. "Come here, she's not harmful," Rhaegel said. "At least when I'm in control of her."

Madeleine edged closer, holding her hand out for him to take. She gasped as she was lifted off her feet, placed into a spot just in front of Prince Rhaegel. Her back was against his chest, and she could feel his hot breath on her neck. He leaned forward and spurred Zaira into the air.

"Woah!" Madeleine cried out as the dragon took off quickly. Rhaegel held her with one arm firmly around her waist, the other on the dragon's neck, as if a way to steer it.

Madeleine looked around her, seeing the festivities at Summerhall from afar. It seemed so small from up here, the air blowing her hair out behind her, presumably in Rhaegel's way. He didn't complain, just steering Zaira through the air and towards the mountains.

"Wow," She breathed, looking at the redness of the stone on the mountains. It was truly breathtaking.

They flew for what seemed like forever, Lady Lannister resting her head back against Rhaegel's chest for a moment as she took it in. "Like the view, my lady?" Rhaegel asked softly.

"I do," Madeleine replied. "Thank you." She was ever present of the feeling of his long fingers resting on her waist, her brain telling her to brush it off and her heart telling her to slip those fingers to places she didn't want to say aloud.

They were back at Summerhall before she wanted to be, but the feast was done and only the drunkest lords were still outside. They landed far away, back in the meadow where Zaira had been sleeping before. "Thank you, girl," Rhaegel patted the dragon on the back.

"I'll catch you," Rhaegel directed it at Madeleine this time, sliding off the left side of Zaira. As his hand left her, she immediately felt cold, shivering a little.

Madeleine took a breath and leapt off the side, ending up in a bundle in Rhaegel's arms. Her heart raced as she felt his hand on her lower back, the other holding her legs up off the ground. She took a shuddery breath and looked into his violet eyes. He was staring back at her. _What do I do? _Madeleine wondered. Only the night would know.

**_A/N: _**I hope you liked both sets of POVs, they have been some of my favorite so far. Thank you to harisnorw for Brandon, nazlanmak for Madeleine, and Outcast001 for Ayla! This was a bit more of some meat, not necessarily very important stuff but some nice reading. I encourage you all to check out a story I recently posted called The Freehold. It is an SYOC about Valyria surviving, the Free Cities, and Essos in general. I feel as though there isn't enough of that out there. Please go check it out, and review if you liked the chapter!


	10. Chapter 9

**_Warning: Points of Part 2 contain beating, which could be off-putting to some. It isn't graphic, but if you prefer not to read it, skip part of the end. _**

**_The Great Council (SYOC)_**

**_Chapter 9: The Finals_**

Madeleine woke up groggily, her eyes skittish and her hands fidgeting with the blanket around her. She shivered as she felt Rhaegel's warm breath on her neck, his strong arm wrapped around her stomach. She carefully pried it back and got up. A blast of cold air hit her bare skin, and she began to tug on the dress that she'd been wearing the day before. Looking back to him for a moment, she took him in. He was laying sprawled out on the bed now, his pale chest in view, but the blankets covered his bottom half. Her face filled with a flush as she remembered the night before. She'd never want to forget it.

She squeaked in surprise as the door opened just as she was about to open it. Madeleine flushed and began to sweat nervously as she recognized three ladies – Lady Westerling, Lady Swyft, and Lady Crakehall, all sworn to her brother.

"Please," Madeleine whispered as they immediately dropped their jaws. "Don't tell anyone."

Lady Swyft glanced at her. "You could be a queen, Madeleine," She replied, her black hair done up in an elaborate bun.

"We are promised to Princess Shaena," Madeleine argued, grabbing two by the elbows and walking down the hall with them. "She needs us in this round."

"Maybe your Prince Rhaegel does," Lady Crakehall swooned, her hands clutching at her chest where her heart was. "Oh Madeleine, is he wonderful?"

She blushed darkly, surprised they weren't upset at her for the scene that they had come upon. "He – he is different." She offered lamely.

The three women trotted off without her, and Madeleine prayed to whatever god was listening that they wouldn't tell anyone what they'd seen or heard. The whole morning, her palms were sweating and she half expected some guard to come take her away for what she'd done. But when she met her brother, Leonidas, to go and prepare to vote for the next round, she breathed a sigh of relief when it appeared no one knew more than she had let them.

"Congratulations on your betrothal, brother," Madeleine smiled at him.

"Thank you," He gave a brief smile back as they filed outside, going through the line to write on the little slips of paper.

Her heart gave pause as she looked at the blank sheet. She started to write Shae- and stopped. She scratched it out quickly and wrote _Rhaegel _in scrawled letters. As she looked up to hand it to the maester, like a ghost, Shaena was standing in front of her. A look of disbelief passed her friend's face, and she turned away. Shaena thrusted her paper into the pile and stomped back off towards the royal dais.

_What have I done, _Madeleine thought, her cheeks burning as she hurried away. She disappeared into the throngs of people, but as she looked up at the dais, she saw Shaena's purple eyes burning back at her. _She doesn't forget. And she never forgives. _She knew that much from being her friend all this time.

"Hey," A woman bumped into her side.

The fiery-haired Lady Tully stood beside her, glancing at her. "I saw what happened back there. Care to explain?" She put her hands on her hips.

Before she knew it, another high lord was beside her. The eagle-eyed Lord Rowan Arryn looked at her, his hands in his pockets. "My lady, most didn't notice your departure last night." He said lowly into her ear. "But I did."

Startled, Madeleine glanced at the both of them. The heir to the Vale and the lady of Riverrun looked at her expectantly for more. "Did you?" Rowan pressed.

"So what if I did?" Madeleine snapped and pushed her way past the both of them, hurrying away for as best as she could.

She was about to break through the crowd, and saw that the maester was taking the podium. "We have our final two." He said. "It was close, so we had to count more than once. We are sorry for the delay, but it is inevitable, considering our wonderful princes and princesses that we have gathered with us today."

"In third, and defeated by just three lords and ladies' votes, Princess Shaena with 28 percent of the lords assembled." The maester said.

Her heart wrenched in her chest. _She had done this. _She couldn't bear to look up at the royal dais, finding herself by Lady Swyft again. "Who did you support?" She demanded, grabbing her arms. "Tell me."

"Why, Prince Rhaegel of course," She smiled serenely, as if there wasn't any problem. "So did Lady Crakehall and her husband, if I am correct."

Madeleine was dizzy. She had defeated her own best friend. She caught the blue eyes of Lady Ayla Tully from the crowd, and saw the disappointment in them. She knew. Rowan Arryn was talking to her in a hushed voice, clearly deciding what to do.

"In second, Prince Rhaegel Targaryen with 30 percent of the lords assembled," The maester continued. "And in first, as with the other rounds, is Prince Viserys with 42 percent of the lords assembled."

As the lords and ladies began to clear again, she hurried towards the dais. Princess Shaena had tears leaking down her face, hot and quick, but the look in her eyes wasn't sadness. It was anger, flashing and bright like the fire of the dragon she commanded. Her eyes grew dark when they saw Madeleine, and she nearly quailed beneath it.

"Why?" Shaena demanded as she walked towards her, imposing when she wanted to be.

"I'm sorry," Madeleine managed, tears beginning to flow from hers as well. "I-I didn't think it would come down to this."

"You betrayed me," Shaena grabbed the arm of one of the Northern lords and whispered into his ear, but loud enough for Madeleine to hear. "We make for the road tonight."

"Please," Madeleine practically begged her. "We need their votes if we will defeat Viserys. Without them, he will win and none of us will stand a chance."

"You did this," Shaena snapped, looking at her with distaste. "You solve it." She swished her dress, and made back for the castle.

Later that night, when Madeleine was bundled in her bed, she could see the torches outside, and the great Northern host head back home. It was larger than it appeared. At long last, there was a gentle knock on her bedroom door.

"Who is it?" Madeleine choked out, her throat covered with her tears and emotion.

"Leonidas," Her brother responded.

"Come in," She whispered back, sitting up in bed.

Her face was a wreck, her blonde hair messy, having been pulling at it while she cried. She had likely lost most of her friends that day. Shaena would go north and prepare for war, Naerys would be off somewhere too, and Ayla would be with Shaena. She'd be alone.

"The northern host left, with half the riverlords," Leonidas sighed as he took a seat. "It took all I could to prevent the Reynes from leading a good fourth of ours home too."

_Should've let them, _Madeleine thought bitterly. _Maybe Amos would be worth something then. _"I didn't want to cause this," Madeleine whispered.

"Whether or not you did, it's what we have to deal with now." Leonidas wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she dozed off to sleep on him within minutes, exhausted from the stressful day. Westeros would wake up in a new dawn the next morn.

. . .

_Sunspear_

Prince Aerys was exhausted from their long walk through the Dornish desert. They had stopped at a few castles along the way, Wyl, Hellholt, Yronwood, and the home of House Allyrion, with Arecel leading the Dornish in and out each time.

They finally made it to Sunspear, the city quiet in the morning when they entered. A force met them at the gates of the keep, letting them in at the order of Arecel Martell. "Good afternoon," Arecel gave a brief nod to the guards, who let them into the castle.

A long time ago, he would've viewed this place as like a paradise. Somewhere he could be himself and act like he wished. But now he just saw a trap. He knew that Arecel wouldn't mistreat him so if her brother hadn't agreed to at least let her do some of it. He had gone without water for nearly a day, only dining properly when they met with the lords of the houses, and they thought of him as royalty, even if he wasn't crowned as King.

"I want an audience with my brother," Arecel said, and disappeared off into a hallway with some of the guards.

Aerys took a seat on one of the couches, running his hands quietly through his hair. His wavy silvery hair was caked with sand from the journey, from being tripped endlessly onto the ground. His once black doublet was now sandy and faded. A few of his friends from before, Dornish squires, looked at him with pity from afar.

"My brother would like to see you," Arecel emerged from the hallway she'd disappeared into. "Right now."

Aerys followed quietly, shuffling as if he were a child. He had his eyes downcast as he entered the room that he'd so happily gone into many times beforehand. He looked at the paintings on the wall of the Prince's bedchamber and was reminded of the passionate events that had taken place there so many months ago.

Prince Maron Martell had a swath of black hair, of which he had used to bury his hands into and just feel it for the sake of feeling it. But the expression in his honey-like eyes was near dangerous. "You lost," His voice was hard. "Out of 4, you came in fourth."

"I'm sorry," Aerys whispered quietly.

"Because you couldn't keep your fucking hands to yourself," Maron got to his feet, the Dornish fire lighting in him. "How are you even a Targaryen?"

Aerys cowered beneath him, a blush hitting his cheeks. He remembered his father asking the same, his cousin Viserys taunting him when he was young for watching them while they bathed. He had always been treated like he wasn't a Targaryen, wasn't a dragon. No one complained when Naerys didn't show murderous tendencies like their siblings and cousins. Just him.

"Maron, I…"

He was surprised when he felt a hard hand slap him across the face. Shocked, Aerys shuffled back and put his hand to his cheek. The look on Maron's face was deadly, anger flickering in his eyes. "You've screwed it all up. Just like we thought you would," Maron snarled. "Now we have to go a different route."

"W-what?" He whispered, trying not to think of what had just happened as best he could.

"You will wed Arecel in the morning and produce a child. That seems the only way to get a Dornishman on the throne at this point." Maron replied, rubbing his hands, as if the slap had hurt them.

"Maron, please," A hint of desperation sounded in his voice and he felt like he was a child again. "You know I cannot."

"You can," Maron corrected. "You just wouldn't prefer it. Don't worry, little dragon. She won't hurt you."

Somehow, his words were hollow. The slap proved it. His hands shook as he looked up at him, and didn't see the man he'd known before. It was just the monster inside.

**_A/N: I hate to do it to my favorite prince – Aerys. :( But that's where the story is going for him. This is the ALMOST LAST chapter of this story. Please give me a bit of patience while I work out the ending of this story and the beginning of the next installment. I will post them on the same day, minutes apart. It will take me a while, as the last chapter of this story and the first one of the next will both be lengthy (likely 10k words or so combined). I appreciate your reviews and please let me know what you want to see in the times to come! We haven't checked in on Naerys in a while, but we'll see everyone in the end of this installment._**

**_Plan –_**

**_Last Chapter of the Great Council_**

**_First Chapter of the Great War (SYOC) to be released sometime in the next 3-7 days. Stay tuned!_**


	11. Chapter 10

**_The Great Council (SYOC)_**

**_Chapter 10: Finale_**

_Part 1: Summerhall_

Rhaegel stood in the glowing sun, dressed in his most spectacular outfit that he could think of. A dark doublet, with the sword Blackfyre strapped at his waist. _I could do this, _he thought as he watched the lords and ladies fill out their slips.

Rhaegel was ecstatic, believing that they were filling in his name. His rightful place would be taken soon. He didn't seem to notice the hesitation that many had, the three regions who had gone home, or the fear that some felt. He had a belief that Viserys was nervous, that he couldn't have expected to go up against Rhaegel, the lawful heir to the King.

When all the lords and ladies were done, the maesters began to count. Rhaegel's eyes met Madeleine's in the crowd. He had noticed she had begun to seem…worried, or sad. He couldn't tell why. He had tried to talk to her, but she had just pushed him away. He was confused. She gave him a weak smile, standing beside her brother Leonidas.

"We have our results," The maester said as he stood up. "Our next King to be seated upon the Throne is King Viserys Targaryen, with support of sixty-five percent of the lords assembled."

Rhaegel's blood boiled. _How? _He thought darkly as he looked out upon the faces of the lords. _He…he was a monster. _Rhaegel thought, remembering what Lady Frey had said. _But they think you a monster, and they might be right, _a voice in his head returned.

"All hail the King!" He heard a voice and spotted it in the crowd. Lord Rowan Arryn bent to a knee, and several lords began to follow.

_No, no, _Rhaegel thought, _this isn't how this was supposed to go. _Vale lords, Reach lords, Stormland lords, and Crownland lords bent to their knees. Warily, the Lannisters and their allies, the remaining Tullys and their allies, stayed standing.

As he glanced over at Viserys, he could see the relative act of defiance was grating on him. He wanted a coronation, an easy settlement. He didn't want lords and ladies to believe that not everyone was with him. It took about ten minutes for them to grab the crown and crown Viserys. Rhaegel had left the royal dais by then, slinking into the crowd unseen.

"Lord Arryn," Rhaegel said in a low voice, tugging at the man's elbow. "May we speak for a moment?"

"Sure, my prince," Rowan followed him to a secluded spot in the forest where he'd first met Madeleine.

"The Vale surely isn't going to follow him," Rhaegel said, a note of desperation beginning to sound in his voice. "He…he's a junior line Targaryen, worthy of Dragonstone at best. A house as prestigious as yours…"

Rowan Arryn looked back at him, his eyes uncompromising. Rhaegel seemed to know the answer before he said it. "The Vale respects honor, Prince Rhaegel. We have said an oath to honor whoever receives the lords and ladies' support at Summerhall. We intend to honor that vow. And you should too, if you want to remain alive." Arryn said, a warning, but it was treated with bad taste by the Prince.

"I don't need any of you," Rhaegel muttered to himself, but Arryn seemed to catch it. "I have my own force."

"I wouldn't recommend invading Westeros, my prince," Arryn replied quietly, looking at him. "We don't take to it that kindly. Especially with a foreign force. Do not become a traitor, Prince Rhaegel. You gave it your best, we respect that. Now, retire to Dragonstone, you have earned it."

Instead, Rhaegel turned from the lord and left him. _He doesn't know, _Rhaegel thought deliriously, _there's a force of tens of thousands of Myrmen at my command. _Giddy with that thought, he went to turn to the last lord that he thought he could sway. "Lord Lannister," Rhaegel said, the wine that he'd had earlier beginning to affect him. "May we talk?"

A man clad in dark grumbled something at him from beside Leonidas, but the lord followed him, nonetheless. He saw Rowan Arryn standing where they'd left. Rhaegel cursed and led Leonidas just inside the doors of Summerhall.

"My lord, would you consider declaring for me in the event of conflict?" Rhaegel's voice had clear desperation in it now. "Your sister will be my wife, a Lannister child on the throne."

"That wasn't my deal," Lord Lannister replied stormily. "The deal was Naerys, and Shaena gave the best response. She receives my levies and my gold should a war arise. My sister made her choice. And I've made mine." He attempted to push past Rhaegel.

"Wait." He stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Please. Think about it."

Leonidas looked at him like he'd been slapped. "Do you so dishonor those that have a different perspective, my prince?" He pushed past him for real this time, heading back to join the rest of his house that was preparing to leave.

_Casterly Rock wasn't burned during Aegon's Conquest, _he thought, _but maybe it can this time. _He watched the back of Leonidas Lannister with hate in his eyes. _I am honoring their house; they get to have a nephew on the throne if I should win. Ungrateful, prideful pricks, the lot of them, _Rhaegel thought.

"My prince," A voice came from behind him.

"Yes?" He turned.

The same man that had been standing by Lord Lannister earlier was there now. He had on dark cloaks, and a yellow kraken was emblazoned on it's front. _Greyjoy, _he realized.

"We come to offer a deal," A second man stood behind him. More handsome, fairer. "I am Varon Greyjoy, this is my brother, Harrin."

_A Paramount house, even if it is the Iron Islands, _Rhaegel thought. "Yes?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We will give you the support of the Iron Islands in full. The Iron Fleet shall be at your command. But once we win you the throne, we will be released. Just as we were before the Conquest. Independent." Varon said, the talker of the two.

"Deal," Rhaegel said immediately. He didn't need any rocks in the sea to prove he was King. If he had the fertile Reach, the wealthy Westerlands, the expansive North, and the proud Stormlands, that would be enough for him. He didn't need the Iron Islands. He didn't much care for them either, they reminded him of dreary Dragonstone.

"What would you like us to do?" Harrin asked, a bit of an unpleasant feeling about him.

Rhaegel began to smirk as he began to detail them on his plan from there out.

_Part 2: King's Landing_

"What time is it?" Naerys yawned as she sat up in bed. Her two personal attendants (and she suspected admirers), Corlys Waters and Godric Baratheon woke her. They were as close as she could get to a Princess-guard, if that made any sense. Both bastards at one point, Corlys was the half-brother of the Lord of Driftmark, and nearing twenty and three. Godric was the bastard of Storm's End but raised by her father to trueborn. He was twenty and four.

"Nearly noon, my princess," Godric said as he stood beside her.

"Why didn't anyone wake me up earlier?" Naerys darted out of bed. "Have we heard who has won?"

"Viserys, my princess," Corlys answered. He had brown hair, the color of his mother's, with purple eyes. He was handsome enough, with a scar on his cheek from defending her before from some unsavory characters.

"That's disappointing," Naerys offered, getting into her closet and changing into a green dress.

They heard a massive _boom _from outside. Dust fell from the ceiling, and Naerys popped her head out of it to look at the two men. "What was that?" She emerged, the dress hanging off of her breasts, barely concealing them.

Godric went scarlet and went to help her zip it up. "I have no idea, my princess," He replied.

"Both of you knock it off with the 'my princess' thing," Naerys scolded as she went to the door. "I'm not a Queen. I never will be. Please?"

"Fine," Corlys replied, but she could see the 'my princess' on his tongue as he barely stopped it from leaving his mouth.

The two men helped her to the main floor and outside. "Oh," Naerys chirped as she saw a great black beast in the air – a dragon. A column of fire burst from its mouth and hit one of the walls on the western end of the city. Stone and dust flew into the air, and with a sickening feeling in her stomach she could see bodies flying as well.

Parts of the city were already on fire, but it was mainly confined to the outer edges. Arrows shot at the dragon, but it appeared that they were falling uselessly off their scales. A guardstower on the north end went up in flames after that, falling in on itself. Screams could be heard even this far away, at the Red Keep.

"Who is it?" Godric asked, wielding his axe in his hand.

"That," She pointed up at the dragon. "Is Aurona." She whispered. "The rider is my sister."

They could see it then as she spoke, the flowing silver hair on the girl who rode the dragon. It was coming straight for the Red Keep.

"Don't back up," Naerys said as both men began to do so. They stopped in their tracks at her word. "They both can sense fear."

The jaws of Aurona snapped and the great teeth bared to them, just feet from their face. Dressed in armor, Shaena Targaryen slid from its neck, a sword strapped behind her back. "Sister!" She smiled at her, but the smile slowly died as she saw Naerys.

Naerys wasn't smiling. A grimace was settled on her face, her fists curled at her sides. "How many people?" She asked softly, looking at Shaena. "How many do you think just went up in flames here?"

Shaena frowned, putting her hand on the snout of her dragon and giving it a playful rub. "We do not count the lives lost, Naerys. War is war. This city is going to see a lot more death in the years to come than just the ones today."

"A good Queen would know that lost lives matter," Naerys replied softly, looking at her. "What has happened to you, sister? You used to know that, once. Did Summerhall change you that much?"

She could see that Shaena was getting angry. It was like when they were younger. Her lip would curl, and she knew that she was going to say something she'd regret. Her face was turning pink, perhaps from embarrassment at the words uttered by her younger sister. "I am not going to let Viserys sit the Iron Throne," She said, her voice turning deadly calm. "So, either step aside, Naerys, or we'll make you."

Naerys didn't believe it. She stayed planted, her hands on her hips. Godric's axe was in his hand, and the dragon snapped at him, disliking the look that he was showing. Corlys' hand was on his sword, preparing for the worst. Shaena was climbing her dragon, putting a hand on its head. She bent down and whispered something into its ear.

"Naerys!" Corlys cried and pushed her out of the way. She and Corlys tumbled to the ground, while Godric dove the other way. A column of flame burst past them, charring the stone and the gold cloaks that were rushing out to help.

Naerys hit her head on the pavement, giving her a dull ache. _Shaena, _she thought. She looked up dizzily at her sister, their eyes meeting. A look of fear and shock was clear on Naerys' face, blood pouring from a wound on her temple. Corlys grabbed hold of her from her waist and hauled her back, Naerys useless in his arms like a rag doll.

"We've got to go," She heard him tell Godric. She was out of it, just registering the dragon beginning to fly off to the north.

"Where?" Godric replied, looking around quickly. They heard a shriek of a dragon and looked up. From the south, they could see another approaching. Viserys. "We've got to go, now." He tugged on Corlys' arm and they began to run.

"Riverrun!" He shouted back. "Lady Ayla will welcome her!" They took off, avoiding the damage wreaked in the city by the dragon that had come, and the dragon that would show up.

_. . ._

_Part 3: King's Landing_

_A Day Later_

Viserys was pleased as he entered the keep. He'd spent the night somewhere else, out in the city. He'd celebrated his victory with some tavern whores and had left on his dragon for the Red Keep in the morning. As he walked in, the gold cloaks bent their heads to him. He knew what they'd done, but he said nothing as he strode deeper inside.

The throne was empty. He began to climb it, and it felt different this time than the last. He felt the weight on his shoulders, as he took a seat upon it. Slowly, people began to filter into the room. They were silent, watching him.

It took about another half a day before the people that he'd requested to arrive actually enter the city. He'd had boats take those that he wanted back in King's Landing the quickest – his Kingsguard, his new small council members, and Lady Mairin.

He saw the white cloaks enter first, escorting Lord Elias Tyrell and Lady Mairin Baratheon. "Ser Tully," His voice boomed through the hall. The red-haired man stepped forward. "Where is Ser Snow?"

He hadn't seen Snow since he'd left King's Landing in the first place, and that had been months ago. He'd heard that Naerys had chased him out of the palace, but he had also been notified that he had been back in King's Landing by a couple of informants.

"Out in the courtyard, your Grace," Tully replied, nodding his head to him.

"Summon him," Viserys replied crisply, crossing his legs. He'd been on the throne for so long that his rear end was beginning to hurt.

"Your Grace, I think it would be wiser if you went to him," Lord Tyrell chimed in.

Rising from the Iron Throne, he followed Ser Tully and Lord Tyrell out to the courtyard. Viserys watched impassively as he looked up. Snow's head was on a pike atop the wall. _Naerys, _Viserys thought. They got to him before he could return.

"Congratulations, Ser Tully," He said to him. "You are now Lord Commander of the Kingsguard," He looked around.

"Your Grace, we saw Princess Naerys leaving with Ser Waters and Lord Baratheon yesterday," A gold cloak spoke up from near them. "They were heading north."

"Thirty thousand gold dragons to the man that can bring me back Naerys alive and unharmed." He said to the assembled gold cloaks, Tyrell, and Ser Tully. "Fifteen thousand that can bring me back Lord Baratheon…alive," He thought, knowing that Mairin could hear him. If she weren't there, he would've asked for his head. "And ten thousand for Corlys Waters' head."

"I'll see it done, your Grace," Elias Tyrell said to him.

"Here," Viserys handed him something.

Elias slowly turned it over in his fingers. The Hand of the King pin. He slowly fastened it to his green doublet and nodded at Viserys. Viserys gave him a nod back. He rewarded those who were loyal to him with offices, gold and loyalty in return. Those that wouldn't…he had other plans for them.

_. . ._

_Part 4: Dorne_

Aerys felt sick to his stomach. After they'd bedded, Aerys had gone to his own room and curled up by himself. He felt useless, violated, used. He had cried into the pillow as he fell asleep, the place that was once his dream was now his nightmare. He woke to the sound of the door opening, and when he saw the orange and yellow attire, he began to whimper and move away.

"Prince Aerys," The voice was melodic, different than what Aerys had been expecting. Warily, he looked over his shoulder.

Dorin Martell was the youngest of the three Martell siblings. He didn't necessarily like Aerys, but he wasn't outright cruel to him either. He was almost as tall as his brother, and slimmer. He leaned against the doorframe. "My sister said that she is fairly fertile and expects to be with child. I am taking you to the Dragonpit for your own dragon atop a Dornish ship."

"King's Landing?" Aerys mumbled as he sat up. If Dorin minded his nakedness, he didn't say anything. Aerys got into a red shirt and breeches and put on the old worn orange tunic that he had used in a previous life. "Isn't that dangerous?" He asked, running his hand through his messy light-colored hair.

"Very," Dorin replied gravely. "But we will be sneaky and quiet. We'll enter near Flea Bottom and ascend towards Rhaenys' Hill. We'll take a dragon and you will carry me back on it. It's just us going on this trip. Anymore and we would risk being spotted."

He had a feeling Dorin hadn't said that to make him feel better, but it did, nonetheless. He laced up brown boots and followed the man out. He kept his head high as they walked past the other two siblings. Arecel sported a smirk as she watched him, and Maron watched impassively as he went by. Instinctively, he latched onto Dorin's arm tighter. Again, he showed no signs of discomfort and allowed him to do so.

He led him out to the Narrow Sea, where there was a little skiff by the docks. It was so small that Aerys could hardly believe that it would make the journey all the way to King's Landing. "In this?" He asked, surprised.

"What else?" Dorin asked irritably as they climbed on. He raised the sails and they began to sail towards King's Landing.

He found himself getting bored and looked at Dorin. "Why did you come?" He asked.

"There's someone out there that I love too, little prince," Dorin replied to him, kicking his feet up on the wooden edge. "She happens to be in your family."

"Many love Naerys," Aerys snorted lightly. "Good luck with that."

"Not her," His voice replied, and he had a misty expression on his face. A bit perplexed, Aerys chuckled when he realized it was Shaena.

"Really?" Aerys asked, holding his gut to keep himself from laughing and tipping the skiff.

"She's fiery," Dorin said, his voice full of care. "I met her at a tourney in Lannisport years ago. She was funny, quick-witted and the most down to earth princess that I'd ever met. That includes Arecel. I knew then that I had to marry her."

"You'll have to get in line," Aerys couldn't help but retort. He was getting tired of Martells preying upon his family. "Seems as though she's going the opposite direction."

"She doesn't love him," Dorin replied, convinced. _No, _Aerys thought, _but does she love you? You have neither armies nor gold to offer. She wouldn't take it and risk losing the North, even if Lord Stark ended up dead. _

They took days to sail to King's Landing. By the time they washed ashore, they could see that there was smoking remains in some of the city's outlying regions. Builders were attempting to make new walls for the city. Dorin ushered him onto the sand, and they took off through the gritty part of the city. They made good time, making it to the Dragonpit before dawn.

"There's three guards, gold cloaks," Aerys said, seeing them from afar.

Dorin casually strolled up to them, Aerys following at a distance. He didn't trust this Dornish prince more than any of the rest. "Good evening," He said to the guards. Before Aerys could say anything, the Dornishman's knives were out and slashing at the men's stomachs. Aerys was wide-eyed as the three gold cloaks sank to their knees, already dead and their guts spilling out.

Dorin opened the doors of the Dragonpit, and he could hear screeching from inside. Dragons, all of them, were behind bars and locked up. Aerys maneuvered through the room, looking at them. Most were small, though some bigger than others. One caught his attention, and he softly walked towards it. It was a sleeping dragon, good enough size to bear a rider. All gold, with a bit of white on the snout and feet. _He looked like a cat_, Aerys thought.

"Goldfyre," He murmured softly as he stepped into it, petting the dragon's head with a hand. Something lit in him at that point as he watched the dragon awake. The eyes stared up at him calmly, as if appraising him. Aerys smiled as he realized that he was chosen. For the first time in his life, he felt like he'd done something right.

**_A/N: Thank you all for traveling on this journey with me! This is the end of The Great Council. The next installment, The Great War will be posted momentarily. Check on my profile for it! Lots of story things today! It will be posted, so please check the profile for it. If you would like to submit a character still, I can work with anyone that wants to join this late in the game. I hope you all enjoyed, the next story will start about five or six months later. Thank you, especially, to Outcast001, nazlanmak, and SerKayofArda for their consistent reviews and lovely words. I appreciate you guys so much._**


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